The Marauders, Episode III: Ghost Ship
by Ryden and Xephfyre
Summary: He wasn't named after the merc with a mouth for no reason - Abel Wade Wilson Locke of the Marauders has never been beaten. But now he ventures into an environment where no amount of mouthing off would help him - the haunted sea hulk of Captain Latanica.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own MapleStory. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of characters or events to real-life persons or events is purely coincidental.

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A/N: I did a retcon for Abel's history due to recent inspiration gained from entire afternoons spent playing Ninja Gaiden II and X-men Origins: Wolverine - you'll excuse me if you find this chapter too corny, bloody and violent for your tastes.

A/N 2:** Due to the insane word count, I'm going to be breaking the installments from this story onwards into separate chapters.  
**

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Chapter 2

Ghost Ship

As Abel Wade Wilson Locke walked the streets - amongst dozens of locals - of Port Singapore's Central Business District, otherwise known to the locals as the CBD, the White Knight mentally ticked off on his fingers the facts that he had learned for the day.

Number one, Captain Latanica was somewhat of an urban legend around these parts - less than half of the locals he inquired even knew who Captain Latanica was.

Number two, those few that _did_ know who he was, were mostly all the superstitious elderly, who were hardly able to provide him with any objective information for him to work him.

Number three, _all_ of their information, given with fearful expressions on their faces, pointed him to Boat Quay, telling him to go find Ralph the Wanderer.

And number four, most disconcerting of all, _all_ of them had given him cryptic warnings along the lines of "you really don't want to go dabbling around with spirits, they'll follow you around for the rest of your life".

Sighing, the White Knight hung his head in exasperation, and continued his walk towards the nearest supply store. Abel had snorted inwardly at their superstitions, knowing far better what the spirits were, and that they were but gnats in comparison to his skill.

On his left hip and over his back, two Japanese swords rested in their scabbards, both of them a gift from his father and grandfather respectively. They both resembled the Red Katanas that one could claim by slaying Tae Roons, but they differed very subtly, in the most minute of details, both from a standard Red Katana, as well from each other.

Firstly, the one he wore on his hip, the one he had named the _Yamato_, in as much as an emotional attachment to the gifts his forefathers had given him, as well as an effort to tell his blades apart, bore a definite resemblance to a standard katana, but that was where the resemblance ended.

The Yamato's blade, a deep steel gray that regardlessly seemed to shine as though forged from the finest metals Bera had to offer, bore an unnatural keenness to its edge. The fact that merely setting it upon his palm was enough to leave a cut upon his calloused skin, was testament to the Yamato's incredible sharpness. Its blade literally sang through the air each time he swung it, and despite its weight, Abel wielded it as though it were light as a feather. The song of the Yamato's steel edge had been the final sound too many beasts to count had heard; their final requiem, before their lives were ended.

And secondly, the one he wore on his back, the slightly shorter and straighter one that he had named the _Dragon Sword_. While it resembled a _ninjaken_ more than anything else, with its shorter and straighter blade than a traditional katana and its regal, golden hilt carved in the shape of a dragon's head, the Dragon Sword was no less deadly than its katana counterpart the Yamato, and it had slain just about as many fiends as its sister blade had killed.

Warriors, _White Knights_ especially, never used more than one sword at once, and many had questioned Abel's habit of carrying around two katanas at once despite never using more than one at a time, to which the White Knight had responded, "Less hassle switching between the two in combat."

It was as much a diversionary answer as anything else, and few people pried further than that. Truth be told, nobody knew why he carried two katanas around at once, because nobody left _alive_ knew why. And Abel pretty much preferred it to remain that way.

Finally reaching the nearest convenience store, Abel wryly regarded the bright yellow sign that spelled out "Cheers", and gave a dry grin. At least somebody had the right idea when they picked the name for their chain of convenience stores.

Stepping through the glass door that led inside, the White Knight quickly strode past the shelves of packeted chips and junk food, and headed straight for the refrigerators.

Inside, entire shelves were stocked full of bottled sodas and energy drinks, and Abel grabbed as many of them as he could, stuffing them into a shopping bag. Next, he headed over to the shelves where they stocked the instant cup noodles, and again grabbed as many as he could, stuffing his cloth shopping bag to almost full.

He had already packed the standard supply of potions and syrettes for typical excursions when he had left the Marauder's headquarters, but it couldn't hurt to be extra careful. Food was rest, and if he couldn't get one kind of recharge, he could simply get the other.

Taking his shopping bags full of food and drinks to the cashier, he dumped the bags on the counter, and let the cashier do his job. Several button presses and a few dings later, the price came up on the cash register, and Abel's jaw nearly dropped.

Talk about market inflations and rising prices! This cost him nearly thrice as much as a standard load of potions that typically lasted him one excursion. Sighing, Abel dug his wallet out of his pack, and opened it up.

Yep, just as expected. He had forgotten to top up his financial reserves again before heading out. The supplies cost him thirty-five thousand mesos, and he only had forty-thousand left. Considering the fact that his pension was a month away and he still had a plane ticket to buy back to Kerning once he was done with this trip, it was somewhat beyond his current financial ability.

Looks like it was up his good old silver tongue again to cut him a deal.

Each of the Marauders had their own special talents. Hiroshi had his way around technomancy that gave the Marauders their distinct edge in their adventures and battles. James was literally the strongest in their guild, and also had the balls to match his strength. Abel had never seen someone so inhumanly stubborn, that even in the face of impossible odds, James just kept on fighting through sheer determination and willpower.

Logan's strength lay in his professionalism, and the cold, detached way he got his "jobs" done, performing each and every mission with merciless, ruthless efficiency. Juliana was the fastest, stealthiest fighter the Marauders had to offer, and if a safe had to be cracked or a fortress had to be infiltrated, they turned to her.

Isabella and Tricia were their finest spellcasters, and each fulfilled their role perfectly - Tricia's defensive and healing magicks were near unparalleled with her skill in the binding arts, and Isabella herself was a deadly opponent when she pulled out her own destruction arts to take out whatever the male Marauders failed to eliminate.

Even Ethan had his own area of expertise - the ranger had the sharpest, fastest mind Abel had seen in action, and he came up with battle plans and tactics as well as analyses of their opponents faster than Abel could even begin to begin thinking about fighting.

And then of course, there was Abel. He doesn't have peerless swordsmanship or brutal efficiency, unmatched skill in the arcane arts or incomparable stealthiness. What he has is a Bachelor's in kicking ass and taking names.

Remember that guy who can pick up any girl? Put him on crack, and you'll get Abel.

Five minutes later of bargaining and heckling later, Abel emerged from the store with a satisfied smile on his face, his shopping bags as full as before, and his wallet only ten thousand mesos lighter.

Oh yes, life was good.

* * *

The White Knight had found Ralph the Wanderer eventually, after hours of wandering through the spirit-infested streets of Singapore. Several possessed gliders, street signs, and cars had attempted to get in his way, and he had left them behind in pieces faster than the eye could even follow. To the untrained eye, it would have looked as though he had cut them down without even drawing either of his swords.

As Abel stood outside the old wanderer's shack, he looked up at the old, dilapidated building that supposedly housed his only lead to Captain Latanica, and sighed again.

_Somebody remind me again why I picked to go after Latanica... oh, right. I thought Singapore would have been a nice place to visit. Come for the country, and stay for the monsters._

"Well, hello there, son." Ralph had greeted the adventurer with a wide, toothless grin, welcoming Abel into the modest shack where he survived day by day.

The tiny, single-floor makeshift building had only a tiny stove in the corner, a shelf where an old saber and a Peacemaker pistol rested, and a small cot opposite the stove, the bedsheets yellowed out with time, and full of tiny holes. Even a couple of bed springs jutted out the sides of the mattress.

In the center of the whole shack was a small, worn out table, with only a couple of chairs that looked as though they were ready to give way the moment someone sat on them.

Grunting, Ralph hobbled over to the stove using his old walking staff as a support, and grabbed the pot steaming over it, and set it down on the table. The old wanderer took off his straw hat, fanning himself with it, and, pouring some of the simmering contents of the pot into a mug, turned to face Abel, holding up the mug filled with some sort of foul-smelling broth.

"It's been a while since I've had visitors. Care for some broth?"

At the rate things were going, Abel decided to take what he could get.

"Yeah, I'll take one." The White Knight took the proffered mug, and took a swig, only to immediately spit the entire mouthful out all at once the moment it came into contact with his taste buds.

"Sweet Jesus, what in the nine blazing hells _is_ that stuff?!" Abel stared, horrified at the dark green mess that he had just projectiled out of his mouth. Its bitter, swampy aftertaste still lingered in his mouth, and Abel nearly gagged on it.

Next to him, Ralph gave a wheezy but hearty laugh, and patted Abel solidly on the back, poured himself a mug as well and drinking heartily from his own as though he wasn't ingesting stuff that tasted like engine grease. "Good shit, huh? It's snake gall broth. Does wonders for your respiratory system. It's got quite a kick at first, but you get used to it eventually."

"I'll bet." Abel coughed, still gagging on the broth's foul aftertaste. "How long have you been drinking this stuff, anyway?"

"About forty years now, and my sixty-fourth birthday is next month. Gives you an idea of how long I've been living in this hole, huh? That brew goes down real well with some well cooked satay - of course, there's not much of a way to make sure the satay's cooked _well_ this far out from civilization."

Abel stared at the old hermit, and blinked several times. "I'm not even going to ask."

"And you probably shouldn't." Ralph chuckled, and shuffled over to his cot, where he sat down, bedsprings creaking loudly and all. "So what brings a youngster like you all the way out here?"

"This man." Reaching into his pack, Abel withdrew the file regarding Captain Latanica, and tossed it towards the old wanderer. Despite his age, Ralph caught the file with the deftness of an adventurer three decades younger, and he flipped the file open in a practiced motion that hinted at a life of adventuring before finally being relegated to his hermitly existence.

Ralph's eyebrow arched upwards, and he gave Abel a questioning look. "So, Captain Latanica, huh? I'm guessing the locals told you I'm the person to go to if you wanted to find anything out about him."

"Well, if by "local crackpot", they were referring to you, yes, I believe they told me to come find you." Abel strode over to the table, and hesitantly set his weight down on one of the chairs - surprisingly, it held up quite well underneath his weight, even with his plate armor on. "Tell me everything you know about him."

Unexpectedly, the old wanderer's eyes glazed over with the familiar light of nostalgia, and Abel sensed that there was a lot more to this aged hermit than meets the eye.

"Boy, you have no idea who Latanica is, do you? Aside from what this file already tells you. I can tell you son, whoever wrote this document just barely scratched the surface of that old captain."

Getting off his cot with the grunt of an old man, Ralph hobbled over to the shelf where the saber and pistol rested, and the White Knight was able to get his first clear look at the two weapons.

The saber itself was practically rusted to uselessness - if Abel tried to wield it, the blade would probably break off on his first swing. But the pistol was well-oiled, well taken care of, and though time had worn it rough around the edges, it still looked more than capable of killing someone.

There lay only a single bullet on the shelf, next to the pistol, and it too was well-maintained, and Abel could not help but feel that that particular bullet was special - it was reserved, with somebody's name on it.

"Forty years, I've been living in this hole." Ralph said slowly as he picked up the pistol, and loaded it with a smooth, practiced motion that was completely out of sync with his elderly appearance - it was as though he had practiced the same motion for years, in anticipation of the moment where the act, whatever it was meant to be, would be carried out for real.

Before Abel knew it, Ralph was standing tall and straight in a classic shooter's stance, the image of a man forty years younger taking the place of the old wanderer.

"Forty years since I last saw that inglorious bastard. And for forty years, I've been saving this bullet, for when I finally see him again."

"You know him, don't you?" Abel asked cautiously, seeing where the conversation was headed. "Or rather, you knew him. You've definitely faced him before, that much I can tell."

"Aye, that much I did." Ralph sighed, and unloaded the pistol, placing both the firearm and its single bullet back on the shelf. "These two items are the only links left to my past here, when I served under the flag of the _Flying Dutchman_, with Latanica as my captain."

* * *

_Latanica was the captain of what used to be called the __Flying Dutchman, but what was formerly the most majestic of all the vessels during Singapore's old days was now nothing more than a sea hulk – a giant hunk of junk floating in the middle of the ocean, where nobody would ever bother to disturb it._

_As far as the younger generations knew, the "legend" of the __Flying Dutchman and it's captain was simply myth and folklore; the tale of an ambitious young captain, full of talent and drive, just one year into his captaincy, who took on a journey that even the most seasoned and experienced sailors of his era would have thought twice of attempting – the Straits of Aqua Road._

_Long and dangerous to navigate, and ridden with coral reefs and violent aquatic life, Aqua Road was a sailor's nightmare, but young Captain Latanica instead saw it as a challenge to be overcome._

_On top of being a prodigious sailor, the young captain was an inspiring and charismatic leader, rallying many sailors to his banner and leading his subordinates to believe that he could make the impossible, possible._

_A devout Christian, he had stayed up all night praying sincerely to God for success the night before the departure, and that he may be blessed with good fortune and protection during the journey. However, as misfortune would have it, it was Lady Luck's day off, and Murphy had taken her place instead._

_On the day of the departure, his ship never got any further than ten miles from the port. A sudden, vicious storm whipped up the seas whereupon he was sailing, tossing the __Flying Dutchman about the waters like a broken wooden bucket. Latanica did his best to fight the storm, but even with his sailing skills pushed to the limit, he was powerless against the force of nature._

_As the __Flying Dutchman was consumed by the ocean's fury, Latanica had stood upon the deck of the ship holding a lantern, surrounded by his crewmen struggling against the sea. Feeling betrayed by God even after all the praying he had done, Latanica had raged at the sky, cursing the storm and railing at God for placing such misfortune upon him._

_As the __Flying Dutchman sunk around him, his men had come up to him, pleading for guidance and begging them to give them orders so they may make it out of this ordeal alive. Consumed by his rage, Latanica lost his sanity, and struck out at his crewmen, striking them down one by one, until he was the last man alive on board._

_When the sea had nearly completely consumed his ship, and the waters were beginning to flood the deck he was standing upon, a glowing being appeared before Latanica, asking mockingly if he really thought himself the king of the sea._

_Latanica, consumed by a spiteful rage, spat back at the being that he was the greatest sailor of his time, and there was no place of the sea that he could not conquer._

_The being scornfully replied that if he __was the greatest sailor of all time, why had he failed to conquer this storm? Furious and at his limit, Latanica drew his pistol and fired a shot at the being – nobody knew what transpired after that, only that when the shot had rang out, the __Flying Dutchman had completely vanished from the charts, never to return to land again._

_

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_

"From that day onwards, every now and then sailors would catch sight of the floating sea hulk, but any attempt to get closer would result in the ship disappearing. Tales began circling around that the captain and crew were now cursed spirits, undead, doomed to live forever and wander the seas for all eternity. Over the next few years as the legend circulated, the _Flying Dutchman_ became a portent of doom to seafarers, but then the modern age was ushered in, and the legend had faded into obscurity, only to be regaled by old timers such as myself."

Ralph finished his tale with a look of nostalgia, and Abel pursed his lips, going over this new information in his head.

The story more or less matched up with the lore tome that Hiroshi had provided him with, but there was something still amiss about everything the wanderer had told him.

"You said that Latanica killed everyone aboard... How is it that you claim to have served under him, then?"

Ralph gave an unexpected laugh. "Carelessness, my boy. Latanica failed to make sure I was dead when he struck down all his crew members. When I was sure that Latanica was far away enough, I dragged myself to my feet and limped all the way to one of the _Flying Dutchman's_ lifeboats to make my escape. I saw those two conversing on the deck, Latanica had the eyes of a madman there. Before I knew it, the boat disappeared before my very eyes the minute Latanica's pistol shot rang out."

As the old wanderer continued his tale, Abel began wondering more and more if, for once, Hiroshi's talent for knowledge and research had failed him.

Several years later Ralph had wandered back out into sea in a small fishing boat, seeking out the _Flying Dutchman _again in a suicide mission, to avenge his fallen comrades. Unfortunately, under the ship's curse, Latanica had mutated into a demonic creature in Ralph's absence, and the fallen captain was far stronger than the former sailor had anticipated.

Ralph barely escaped with his life, but nobody ever believed him when he said that he had fought Captain Latanica again.

Abel had thanked Ralph for his information, and the old timer was more than happy to provide the White Knight with directions on how to find the _Flying Dutchman_, as well as a bottle of what he called "White Essence", which he would need to disperse in front of the doors to the captain's quarters in the engine room, the deepest level of the Ghost Ship.

Abel, with his silver tongue as always, had promptly procured a small rowing boat for free – less worry about returning it later – and set sail out to sea from the Boat Quay port, following Ralph's directions to find the _Flying Dutchman_.

* * *

It didn't take long before a storm whipped up when he was but ten miles from the port. Abel suspected that it's the very same storm that befell Captain Latanica, but decided to take it in his stride, and rode the storm out. In his small fishing boat the storm failed to maroon him at sea, and soon enough he broke through the raging waters to discover the floating hulk of the _Flying Dutchman_.

It was a breathtaking, ominous sight, its dark outline silhouetted against the night horizon, befitting its appearance as a portent of doom. The dark night sky hung above Abel, devoid of stars, and even the moon itself had been reduced to a mere crescent, providing only a few slivers of silver rays by which Abel had to navigate. The White Knight carried a flashlight in his pack, but at distances like these, it was all but useless. Sailing over, Abel quickly found a hole in the hull after a brief round around the _Flying Dutchman's_ exterior, and entered the derelict ship.

The feeling hit him the very moment he set foot upon the shipwreck's wooden floorboards. There was something just plain _wrong_ about this place. The ship's very existence was a crime against nature, and it didn't take a sixth sense for Abel to know that there was a lot more to this place than met the eye.

Quite against his expectation his heart began to race, and he nearly broke out into a cold sweat. Noting to his chagrin that this was very uncharacteristic of him, Abel chalked it up to whatever supernatural forces were operating within the ship, and quickly held up the ring that he had worn since his parents had given it to him on his tenth birthday - the Ring of Basilius.

A quick prayer was whispered, and immediately the tightening feeling in his chest disappeared, allowing him to breathe easy again and look upon his surroundings more clearly. Taking in a deep breath, he unsheathed the Dragon Sword from its scabbard on his back, and took his first steps into the wreckage of the _Flying Dutchman_.

One minute was enough for him to deduce that whatever otherworldly force possessing this ship had really gone to town with it. Since taking his first step into here, he felt like he was being guided every step of the way - walking into halls and having doors lock behind him, others opening up in front of him, footsteps disappearing around the corner that led to another unlocked door... twice, he'd found gems lying on the wooden floors, pointing him in a particular direction, and once, after taking a wrong turn, the entire room around him had suddenly gone dark.

Not even the flashlight he had brought in his pack could be turned on, and the lights from the dim torches lining the corridors of the ship came back on only when he'd groped his way back to where he'd gone "wrong".

Slowly, and reluctantly, Abel trudged through the halls in the direction he was being led in, Dragon Sword at the ready. He had already tried kicking in several of the doors that had locked themselves behind him in an attempt to open up a new path - he may as well have tried kicking through an adamantium wall. Not even the Dragon Sword's steel blade was capable of penetrating the wooden boards that composed the door.

From there, Abel proceeded through a series of doorways and mysteriously empty rooms, until he arrived at the top of a stairwell leading downwards, where a dessicated, shrivelled corpse and a large pool of dried blood caused him to pause.

The White Knight had learned long ago to trust his instincts - and they nagged at him now. Something felt _wrong_. It was quiet, with only the soft rustling of the ocean's waves outside the ship to disturb the otherwise perfect silence. Something was closing in on him, he could _feel _it, but what?

Abel descended the ramp. He arrived on the level spot at the bottom, and saw the hatch to his left. Dragon Sword at the ready, he cautiously approached the wooden barrier.

As if sensing his presence, the door abruptly swung open, and dumped a shriveled skeleton into his arms.

His pulse quickened, and Abel immediately stepped backwards as the dessicated corpse clattered the ground, disintegrating into individual bones as it hit the deck. Holding the Dragon Sword one-handed, he swept the room ahead with his eyes as best he could, searching for a target.

Nothing.

Abel took a step forward, then immediately spun on his heel and pointed the Dragon Sword back the way he had came.

Goddamnit, it felt like eyes were boring into the back of his head. Something was _watching_ him.

Abel quickly backed into the room, and the door slid shut in front of him, locking itself with a quiet _click_, just like all the other doors he passed through had done before it.

He registered the click of a pistol's hammer cocking backwards before its owner could pull the trigger, and the White Knight immediately whirled around, swinging the Dragon Sword in what seemed to be a wild arc, but was really calculated and controlled. As a result, the bullet that would have slashed through his throat instead pinged harmlessly off the Dragon Sword's steel blade, and was spent spinning wide to the side.

It took him several seconds for him to register what he was seeing in front of him. Standing just a few feet away from him, was what appeared to be a desiccated corpse much like the one lying in the pool of dried blood on the floor above him, but that was where the resemblance ended. This one still had its internal organs intact, vaguely visible underneath the tattered rags that it wore, and it was standing upright on two feet with no apparently visible assistance, grasping an antiquated pistol in its bony fist and pointing it straight at him.

"Hello, poppy," The undead pirate rattled to him in a raspy voice, its fleshless mouth peeled back in a macabre grin. Before Abel could even react, the pirate fired again, and the bullet slammed straight into his chest plate. It felt as though a mule had kicked him in the chest, but thankfully the solid plates of mythril-adamantium alloy held fast, stopping the bullet from even penetrating.

The White Knight stumbled backwards, but then abruptly disappeared from sight with a strange swishing sound. Puzzled, the undead pirate blinked in surprise several times, and then its head fell off its shoulders, said surprised expression forever etched upon its rotten visage.

And behind it, Abel stood in a classic swordsman's stance, his blade outstretched and slick with the pirate's black blood. With a flick of his wrist Abel flung the blood off the Dragon Sword's blade in a _chiburi_ movement, and sheathed it quickly and smoothly.

Turning around, the White Knight looked down upon the deader-than-dead corpse with chagrin, and leaned in closer to examine it. The magical trails around it reeked of necromancy, and Abel wrinkled his nose in disgust.

He had only taken a single step backwards when there were several dozen clicks around him, all exactly the same as the click that he had heard when the undead pirate had cocked its pistol's hammer backwards in preparation to shoot him.

"Take it easy, boys," Abel said cooly even as he stood up and realized that he was completely surrounded, and in the sights of several dozen barrels. "I'm just passing through."

"Says the one who just cut off Ragetti's head," The pirate standing behind him sneered, the barrel of its pistol leveled at the back of Abel's own noggin. "He'll put himself back together soon enough, but you'll be dead long before that."

"Come, now." Abel chuckled with an amiable smile. "I'm just here to have a friendly discussion with your captain, maybe barter something the captain has in exchange for something I have."

"Too late," The pirate drawled. "You were dead the moment you set foot inside this room. Take him down, boys."

The pirates' bony fingers tightened upon their triggers, and Abel moved. He knew that surrounded, there would be little he could do to fight back all of them at once. He had to get out of there and get his bearings before they swarmed upon him.

His legs moving automatically, Abel sprinted forward, barreling shoulder-first into the pirate in front of him. Shouting in surprise, the pirate's shot went wide, slamming instead straight into the cranium of one of its undead compatriots and toppling it like a sack of bricks, it's decaying brain pulverized by the tiny iron ball.

Unrelenting, Abel grabbed a hold of the pirate's gun arm, and twisted it around in a way that no human arm was ever meant to bend. There was the sickening crack of bones snapping and ligaments tearing, and while the undead sailor felt no pain, he was more than surprised at the fact that his arm had suddenly been robbed of its mobility.

Taking advantage of the pirate's momentary distraction, Abel maneuvered himself behind the pirate until it was positioned like a human shield, and let it absorb the barrage of bullets that were sent his way. The undead pirate's body shook like a rag doll as multiple impacts slammed into its rotting body, but after a few seconds the barrage ceased, and he could hear the distinctive _snikt!_ that meant swords were being drawn; some of the pirates were closing in on him with their cutlasses while the rest reloaded.

Immediately releasing his hold on his victim, Abel gave the skeleton a solid kick in its back, sending it tumbling straight into its compatriots. Without even pausing to admire his handiwork, the White Knight turned on his heel and dashed away.

Several dozen shots rang out from behind him, some of them pinging off his armor, the rest slamming into the walls in front of him as the shots went wide. His legs pumping, Abel dove straight for the nearest door, slammed into it shoulder-first, and burst through in a shower of splinters. Without even pausing, the White Knight rolled deftly to his feet, and high tailed it out of there before any of the undead pirates could even think about giving chase.

Silence reigned in the wake of Abel's sudden departure, and the pirates looked amongst each other for direction.

"The git got away. What now, boss?" One of the undead sailors asked the one who had had its pistol pressed against the back of Abel's neck, and was promptly slapped upside the head.

"We head to the engine room," The lead sailor grated, his rotting teeth clenched in rage at the White Knight's escape. "If there's one place anybody would come to this godforsaken wreck for, it'll be where our captain resides."

* * *

A/N: Review, review, review. I've got the next chapter halfway done.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own MapleStory. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of characters or events to real-life persons or events is purely coincidental.

* * *

A/N: I did a retcon for Abel's history due to recent inspiration gained from entire afternoons spent playing Ninja Gaiden II and X-men Origins: Wolverine - you'll excuse me if you find this chapter too corny, bloody and violent for your tastes.

A/N 2:** Due to the insane word count, I'm going to be breaking the installments from this story onwards into separate chapters.  
**

* * *

Panting furiously, Abel sprinted through the halls of the ghost ship, his legs pumping as fast as they could. His route took him downwards, into the very bowels of the shipwreck - where the engine room was. Skeletal pirates practically popped out of every nook and cranny to ambush him as he approached, and he cut each and every one of them down mercilessly. Two of them burst out from behind a stack of crates in front of him, aiming their flintlock pistols.

Abel didn't even pause. Dragon Sword in hand, he took a flying leap forward, and shouted, "Flying Swallow!"

The White Knight streaked forward in an impossibly fast blur, disappearing past the two pirates in a flash of blue, and he landed deftly on both feet, the two headless bodies of the undead sailors crashing to the ground behind him, their heads rolling at his boots.

He burst through another doorway, and was greeted, as usual, by an entire corridor filled with enemies. Slamming the Dragon Sword back into its sheathe on his back, Abel drew the Yamato in a single, swift motion, and yelled "Slash Blast!"

The Red Katana's crimson blade slammed into the wooden deck of the ship as the White Knight swung downwards, and immediately every single pirate in the corridor was thrown into the air, some of them even killed instantly by the resulting blast. But as though that wasn't enough, Abel's arm blurred again in a second motion, and had the Yamato in its sheathe again, prepared to execute a maneuver he had practiced countless times before.

"Judgement Cut!"

The Yamato's blade slashed outwards in an impossibly fast movement, disappearing back inside its sheathe before anyone could even blink. Blue lines slashed across the corridor where the remaining pirates were, and a heartbeat later, the very air itself _shattered_.

The sheer force of the shockwave tore apart every single undead sailor present in the corridor, as blades of wind tore and rended their bodies, until they were naught but bloody pieces lying on the floor.

Exhaling, Abel straightened, and released his hold on the Yamato's handle. There was only a single pirate still left alive in the corridor, crawling around on its belly, missing both legs and an arm. Without mercy, Abel strode forward, slid the Dragon Sword out of its sheathe, and gave the dismembered ghoul a solid kick up the chin.

The kick had enough force to lift the pirate up into the air for just a moment, and Abel used that moment to run the ghoul through the neck. A quick twist of the blade and a deft sideways slice, and the ghoul's head was forcibly removed its shoulders in a welter of black blood, sent tumbling away to the side. All of that happened in less than a second as Abel performed what many warriors called the Obliteration Technique - an uncommon method shunned due to its sheer brutality, used to quickly dispatch enemies that were near death.

_It seriously can't be this easy,_ Abel thought to himself as he flicked the blood off the Dragon Sword's blade in a _chiburi_ motion, smoothly sliding the steel blade back into its sheathe. _There ought to be a lot more of the enemy in this particular place, given how close I'm getting to the engine room. It's almost as if they pulled back most of their forces... waiting for me._

The realization hit him almost as soon as he reached the doors that led to said engine room. Of course - it made perfect sense. Instead of allowing him to rampage freely through the corridors of the ship and massacre their unprepared crew, they drew back the bulk of their forces to protect the most critical location - where their captain resided - while leaving just enough forces behind to give the impression of resistance - not that there was much of it.

His mana sense wasn't as sharp or accurate as Isabella's or Tricia's, but he was versed in the arcane arts well enough to know that there was a practical horde of undead pirates waiting for him in the room beyond. The number of mana signatures he sensed was staggering... almost as much as in one of the missions that he and the rest of the Marauders had taken on together - _that_ particular excursion had been fun.

As he switched the scabbard of the Yamato from his left hip to his right, his mind began to wander back to that particular mission - the very first that the Marauders had embarked upon all together at once.

* * *

_The steady, repeated scrape of metal against a sharpening stone was loud and ringing in the cramped interior of the airship_, _and Isabella Keyes' eyebrow twitched in irritation as the White Knight in front of her practically caressed his blade with the sharpening stone, producing the loud, ringing sound again and again._

_"I love this weapon more than anything in the whole wide world, do you wanna know why?" Abel said with a broad smile on his face, looking up at the ice mage's cold eyes._

_Trying to curb her annoyance, Isabella simply gave Abel a blank, disinterested stare, a sardonic eyebrow cocked that plainly said "I don't care, so shut the hell up"._

_Unfortunately, the White Knight seemed to miss her clue completely, and simply continued on as though she had instead gazed at him in rapture and ask in a hushed voice why it was so._

_"It's memorable," Abel stated, his grin growing even wider as though he was reciting a beloved speech. "Sure it's a little bulky, and hard to get on an airship, but when you pull out of a couple of swords at your ex-girlfriend's wedding, they will never, _ever_, forget it."_

_"That's funny, Wade," Isabella said with a deadly smile, made even more menacing by her use of his middle name, which was generally taboo in the White Knight's general vicinity - Abel hated the fact that his parents had ever named him after the infamous, semi-insane mercenary swordsman Wade Wilson, also known as 'the merc with a mouth'. "I think you confuse me with someone who's easily impressed."_

_To the surprise of everyone else on board, Abel Wade Wilson Locke's grin never faltered, and he simply chuckled and sat back, still smiling. "Granted, it's probably not as intimidating as having a gun, or a gigantic hunk of iron, or the... fingernails of a bag lady."_

_At the "gun" remark, Hiroshi Takei looked up from the corner of the dropship he was sitting in, the bespectacled Outlaw still polishing the Peacemaker revolver that rested on his lap. Similarly, the moment Abel said "large hunk of iron", James' ears twitched as the airsick crusader struggled not to lose his composure, and his lunch, as he bowed his head down and clasped his hands together tightly, his lips pressed together in an attempt to keep green bile from spilling out._

_But the moment the last few words of Abel's sentence spilled out of his mouth, Isabella's smile grew even colder, and ice began to crystallize around her perfectly manicured fingernails, forming deadly talons at least an inch in length. The threat was unmistakable - nobody insulted the Ice Queen and walked away unscarred. Abel was really grating on Isabella's nerves; enough to warrant a good beating, even if to just knock some sense into the White Knight's head._

_Unfortunately, Abel was completely unfazed by the display of power, and even responded by palming the handle of the Dragon Sword on his lap, openly challenging her threat - Isabella's grin simply grew even wider as her eyes narrowed._

_There was a loud _snikt_!, and Abel held up the sharpening stone that he had been using on the Dragon Sword. "Manicure?"_

_Isabella was practically radiating ice-cold killing intent by now, and the ensuing bloodbath was averted only by Ethan's timely intervention as he quickly laid a hand on his simmering girlfriend's shoulder. "Bella, easy..."_

_Continuing his staring contest with Isabella, Abel simply smirked, and cocked his head to his left, in the Dragon Knight's direction. "Logan got a new tattoo. I'm concerned."_

_That caught James' attention, and he leaned back into his seat to get a clear look at Logan's bicep - the Dragon Knight was practically seated right next to him. What he saw more than took him by surprise. "Oh, Jesus, Logan, you just laid her last night."_

_"I love her," Logan said simply with a blank look on his face, regarding the tattoo of the svelte, voluptuous woman clad in bright red lingerie with long, fiery red hair on his left bicep._

_"Yeah, well, you loved her for one night," James replied, as though the answer was completely obvious. However, Logan missed the point completely._

_"She's a gymnast." The Dragon Knight said shortly, as though that explained everything. Upon hearing that, the airship's pilot broke out into a wide grin, catching on to the private joke between the two of them._

_Quickly turning to the airship's pilot, Ethan tapped her shoulder, and instructed, "Juliana, take us down."_

_Nodding, the young Chief Bandit complied, and turned the joystick sharply forward, bringing the airship into a sharp dip that sent almost everybody's stomach lurching. James in particular got the worst of it, being vulnerable to airsickness, and the crusader bent over in his seat, his eyes tightly shut._

_"You gonna puke?" Logan asked in his typical curt tone, taking a bite out of a ration bar even as he spoke, completely unfazed by the motion sickness afflicting everyone else._

_"Well, if we were meant to fly, God would've given us wings." James muttered, trying desperately to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged._

_"Ah, don't worry about that, James. More people die in car accidents than they do flying." Hiroshi quipped lightly, a cocky smirk on his face._

_"How about from impaling?" James gave the Outlaw the finger, but his hand was quickly slapped down by the woman sitting next to him._

_"Hey James, be nice," Tricia Telfair said from beside her boyfriend. "Or at least your approximation of nice."_

_Rubbing James comfortingly on the back to assuage his motion sickness, she asked, "Would you like a bucket?"_

_James shook his head weakly, raising his hands almost in surrender to his lurching stomach, as the airship streaked lower and lower, towards the slums of Showa Town._

_

* * *

_

_The eight-man band strode through the slums, attracting as many stares as a marching brigade, but nobody dared approach them. The gleaming swords, staffs, daggers and pistols more than discouraged any potential muggers eager to make a quick buck from their valuable equips. Doors and windows were shut as they approached, and James looked upon the destitute state of the slums with pity. Garbage covered the streets, the floors were filthy, the walls of the buildings around them were falling apart, and the whole place stank of sewage._

_The crime lords ruling over this sect of the city hoarded all the wealth and riches for themselves, and naturally they would use all sorts of hired muscle to enforce their unjust laws - an eight-man band wearing a fresh set of shiny equips, led by a crusader clad in full plate armor and carrying a gigantic sword on his back, probably looked just like a crime lord's patrol. Of course the populace would be scared of them._

_The whole op was Ethan's idea - one of the local crime lords had something Ethan wanted, and the ranger had no qualms about breaking into a stronghold full of gangsters and criminals to steal something that they had probably stolen as well in the first place. Ethan wouldn't say what he wanted, no matter how much prying James did._

_As they finally came to an exit leading out of the slums, James beheld a large compound, several stories high, with turrets and sentries pointing out virtually everywhere. A chain link fence surrounded the entire building, with only a single gate facing them, and the entire perimeter was swarming with guards toting assault rifles and machine guns._

_"Why are we here?" James asked curiously, looking at his best friend for answers._

_Unfortunately, Ethan didn't give him anything more but a cryptic smile, and simply replied, "All in good time. Hiroshi?"_

_The Outlaw knew the plan, and smiled confidently as he strode forward towards the compound's gate, his fingers twitching in visible anticipation. The moment he got within ten feet of the gate, the searchlight mounted on the building's swung towards him, engulfing the pirate in its blinding glow, and the guards reacted instantly._

_"Intruder!" The one posted at the gate shouted, instantly leveling his weapon in Hiroshi's direction. "Perimeter breach!"_

_Within the blink of an eye, over two dozen guns were pointed in his direction, their owners' index fingers twitchy and ready to pull the trigger in a moment's notice._

_"Put your hands behind your head!" The guard standing at the gate shouted, his own rifle trained on Hiroshi's heart. Even at thirty meters, there was no doubt that this particular hired goon had an aim good enough to blow a hole through Hiroshi's chest if the pirate made any sudden movements._

_Still smiling all the way, Hiroshi slowly complied, raising his arms upwards, towards his head... and the pair of Smith & Wesson M500 "Peacemaker" revolvers he kept strapped behind his shoulder blades._

_It happened before anybody could even register it. In a flash, Hiroshi had both revolvers in his hands, and snapped off a series of shots that instantly emptied the six-shot chambers of his revolvers, each shot blasting through the cranium of a guard and instantly vaporizing it._

_Twelve shots rang out in rapid succession - twelve bodies hit the floor._

_The sheer suddenness of Hiroshi's attack caught the guards off balance, even if only for a split-second. However, a split second was all the Outlaw needed to begin sprinting forward, straight towards the remaining dozen guns that were pointed in his direction. In a flash he had one of his Peacemaker's holstered, his now-free hand working in a blur, reloading a single fifty-cal bullet into his other revolver's empty chamber._

_One of the guards dropped his rifle and sprinted towards an unmanned heavy machine gun, quickly aiming it in his direction and letting loose with a torrent of lead. The other guards at the sandbags in front of him and on the building's roof did the same, all of them opening fire all at once. Bullets streaked past Hiroshi with millimetres to spare and slammed into the dirt at his feet, but the Outlaw continued dashing forward, aiming as he ran._

_A massive _BOOM_! rang out_, _Hiroshi's aiming arm kicking back almost ninety degrees from the sheer recoil of the fifty-cal. The guard manning the machine gun was blown clear off the ground, a fist-sized hole in his chest as his back exploded in a mist of red. His arm jerked at a precise angle that Hiroshi had been aiming for - an angle that tilted the heavy machine gun in the direction of his comrades at the sandbags, and cut them in half with a volley of high-calibre rounds._

_The guards on the roof continued firing upon him with impunity, and Hiroshi quickly snatched up his second Peacemaker again, still dashing forward in Quick Motion. In a single deft movement, he flicked his Peacemakers' chambers outward, emptying them of their spent bullet cartridges, and tossed them upwards. In that same movement, he reached downward to his belt, pulled out two speedloaders, and slammed their contents into his Peacemakers' emptied chambers just as they fell back downwards to him again._

_Before anyone could even register what had happened, Hiroshi had flipped his revolvers around into his hands, primed and ready, and he took to the air in a massive leap, flying forward while still firing all the way. He sailed over the gate in a perfect backflip, snapping shots off everywhere, and by the time he landed, flourishing his revolvers, the guards on the roof and the watchtowers to the side were all dead._

_"Having fun yet?" Isabella asked James with a cold smirk on her face before running forward towards the gate, where Hiroshi had unlocked it. Seeing the ice mage sprinting forward with impunity into their compound, the one remaining guard still left alive outside ducked inside his hatch in a panic, and into the M1 Abrams Battle Tank he was manning._

_"Logan?" Ethan turned towards the Dragon Knight, and already he knew what was going to be asked._

_"The tank?" Logan asked with his typical dour, expectant expression, and Ethan nodded._

_"The tank."_

_Swallowing the last of the ration bar he had been chewing on, Logan stepped forward. "Very good then."_

_Behind the tank, Isabella dashed towards the side of the building, unnoticed by the last remaining guard, and quickly began teleporting upwards floor by floor, appearing on the balconies for split seconds before disappearing._

_Meanwhile, the guard was frantically loading a 105mm shell into the tank's barrel, and peering cautiously down the aiming tube - he was greeted by the sight of Logan staring right back at him, like a predator staring right into the alcove of its cornered prey._

_The guard's eyes widened in surprise, and he pressed down the trigger in a panic - in response, Logan activated Hyper Body and Iron Will simultaneously, and smashed his fist down the width of the tank's barrel - a perfect fit - and pushed the 105mm shell backwards until it detonated _inside _the tank._

_The resulting column of fire erupted outwards from the top of the tank, rising even higher than the building next to it, and Logan extricated his hand from the tank's barrel, blowing it off - apart from soot and some charring, his gauntlet was otherwise unmarred._

_Their way no longer barred, the entire remaining team strode inside the building, and filed into the elevator all at once._

_It was made immediately apparent that whoever was in charge of the building was watching them - halfway up to the top floor, the power to the elevator suddenly cut, and its interior was immediately plunged into complete darkness._

_Frowning, Tricia pressed the button that led to the top floor again; no response. All around her, Logan, Ethan, James, Abel, Hiroshi and Juliana shifted uncomfortably._

_"Great," Abel began muttering. "Stuck in an elevator with four guys on a high protein diet. Oh Abel, dreams really do come true."_

_In the elevator, everybody save for Ethan and James began snickering, but the two of them were in no mood for frivolous humor._

_"Just shut it, Abel," Ethan quickly ordered. "You're up next."_

_"Thank you, sir," Abel replied sarcastically. "You look really nice tonight. It's the green. Brings out the seriousness in your eyes."_

_"Oh my God, do you ever shut up, pal?" James groaned, fighting the urge to elbow the White Knight in the side._

_"No. Not when I'm awake."_

_"Juliana? Twelfth floor, please." Ethan instructed the Chief Bandit standing in front of him. With a nod, she quickly knelt down, prying open the elevator's control panel and crossing wires left and right. Within seconds the lights came back on, and the elevator began trundling upwards once again. Within seconds, they had reached the top floor, and the elevator stopped with a cheerful "ping!"_

_Abel stared at the bright number 12 on the elevator's panel, which stared right back at him in the face, and he looked down at the two closed elevator doors in front of him. "Time to go to work."_

_The two katanas strapped to his back gleamed brightly, and as the people standing around him shifted to the side to give him room to move and the elevator doors opened, the White Knight stepped forward, doing what he did best. Kicking ass._

_

* * *

_

He emerged through the doors in a tornado of steel, greeted by a torrent of lead. With the Yamato in his left hand and the Dragon Sword in his right, the White Knight wielded the deadly pair that was known together the "Dragon's Claw and Tiger's Fang", and charged forward like a whirlwind.

There were at least two dozen pirates in the room, every single one of them wielding a pair of matchlock pistols. All of them were aiming at him, and they all opened fire all at once. Bullets were sent flying at him from all directions, and he intercepted every single one of them with blinding speed, his blades forming a spinning sheet of metal that sent everything flying to the sides.

Inexorably, the White Knight advanced forward, deflecting bullets right back at their shooters. One by one, the undead pirates died, felled by the very rounds they had fired. Abel spun around once, blades whirling, and six of the pirates standing in front of him simply toppled, their craniums pulverized by the lead balls they themselves had fired.

Twelve left.

One of them just barely survived a deflected bullet shredding its decaying torso - staggering to its feet, it aimed its pistol at Abel, whom had already advanced past it.

Just a split-second's view was all he needed. The reflection of the pirate taking aim at him from behind bounced off the mirror-like surface of the Dragon Sword's blade, and immediately the White Knight spun around just as the pirate pulled the trigger.

"Thunder Charge!"

The surge of spiritual energy sent through the Dragon Sword's blade sheathed it in arcs of electricity, amplifying its cutting power hundredfold, and Abel counterattacked.

"Charged Blow!"

A flick of his wrist sliced the bullet in half, and both symmetrical halves of the lead ball streaked past his ears with millimetres to spare - and instead buried themselves in the bodies of the two pirates standing behind him.

Ten left.

Without even pausing Abel spun around to deflect a second bullet right back at its shooter, sending it crashing straight into the wall.

Nine left, and they were all standing in front of him, weapons leveled and reloaded.

Wash, rinse, repeat. Abel's legs carried him forward automatically as his arms moved of their own accord, deflecting bullets left and right. All of the undead pirates in front of him continued firing their weapons in a panic, desperate to stop what seemed nigh unstoppable, but none of their bullets could even touch him.

The very moment he was within reach, Abel cocked both of his katanas behind him for a split-second, letting his reiatsu flow through their blades, and activating their elemental charges. Immediately, crimson fire blazed over the Dragon Sword's blade; electric blue arcs of lightning began to flare around the Yamato's own glistening steel, and the White Knight unleashed his fury.

"Path of the Demon Dragons!"

Abel Wade Wilson Locke erupted into a tornado of slashing movements. None of the pirates even had time to aim - Abel closed in like a hurricane, slicing and dicing like a madman. Blood streaked across the floor as limbs were sent flying in all directions, and Abel finished his barrage of slashes with several spins, reducing the nine pirates in front of him to what could only be called chop suey.

The White Knight let out a long breath, and flicked the blood off both his blades, sheathing both of them simultaneously. All right, that one had been harrowing. There were several deep scratches on his plate armor where his swords had failed to intercept the bullets being sent his way, and one had come damn close to slashing across his face; if it had hit, it would have blown his cheek open.

His heart was still racing from the rush of adrenaline, his head spinning from the high of battle. The part that he loved about fighting the most was not the anticipation before it, or the heat of it, but the feeling of surviving and living _after_ it. The feeling of having been up against insurmountable odds, with his life and limb on the line, and coming out unscathed - nothing else made him feel more _alive_ than that.

Abel wiped off the blood from the small graze on his cheek, and quickly taped a bandage over it. Just beyond the door in front of him lay the engine room - Latanica's lair. This was definitely going to be one of the toughest fights he had ever been through - no sense going in unprepared.

Reaching down to his belt, Abel pulled out a health and mana syrette each, and popped off the sterilized cap of one with his teeth. Holding the hypodermic needle outwards, he poised it over his bicep, ready to press the plunger down and inject the concentrated potion solution into his bloodstream, when he paused.

_Oh come on, you've got to be kidding me._

He didn't remember sensing that giant, malevolent presence behind him just a few seconds ago.

A gigantic bladed object of some sort, he couldn't see exactly what, descended upon his head, and Abel moved. Deftly sidestepping to his left, the iron anchor instead descended upon the wooden deck of the ship instead, shattering the floorboards and sending splinters flying everywhere. By then Abel was already at the opposite side of the room, the syrette still clutched tightly in his hand, its sterilized cap clenched in between his teeth.

Quickly, he spat out the cap, and sank the needle deep into his bicep, welcoming the replenishing rush of strength that Hiroshi's patented potion syrettes. Tossing aside the empty hypo, Abel grabbed a hold of the Dragon Sword's handle and was ready to dash forward to take on his new adversary, when he finally caught sight of his attacker. Surprise stopped him dead in his tracks, and he took a step back, eyeing his opponent warily.

For all intents and purposes it looked just like any of the other pirates he had faced before in the ship, except that this one was clad in clothes that were remarkably less tattered than the ones its compatriots wore - it was wearing a relatively intact black garb, with a cowl of the same color covering its face, and a band of orange jewels adorned its forehead in a headband, the jewels glowing the very same color as its infernally flickering eyes. However that wasn't was so surprising about it - this one was radiating power and a hellish aura that was several magnitudes more intense than even the entire horde he had just taken out put together.

Abel took a step forward, but the black-clad newcomer spoke first, pointing a gloved hand in his direction.

"You shall not pass." It spoke in a iron-hard, gravelly voice that brooked no argument, and the intensity of its aura surged even further, wisps of tangible energy flowing off its outline. Reaching up to its face, it tore off its cowl, and Abel grimaced at the undead pirate's mutated visage - horns shaped like mandibles protruded out from its cheeks, surrounding its mouth, and though its flesh was not as decomposed as its weaker compatriots, its skin was completely blackened and mottled, as though it undergone a different sort of decaying altogether.

Before Abel could even begin to ponder on what exactly that meant, the single pirate took to the air in a massive, flying leap. The White Knight followed his adversary's ascent with his eyes, but just as the pirate reached the peak of his jump, there was a massive, blinding flash of light, and Abel reflexively shut his eyes tightly, covering his face with his forearm.

_Damn! What the hell was that!?_ Quickly blinking the spots out of his eyes, Abel bit back a shout of surprise, and lowered his arm in an attempt to locate his opponent - what he saw nearly bowled him over.

Before him stood the very same pirate, except that this time it was three times its original size; somehow, it had sprouted claws from each finger that were at least three feet long, and to top it all off, it had also grown four massive, pincer-like stingers on its back, each ending in an impossibly sharp spear tip that looked like it could pierce through his plate armor without so much of any resistance.

"**I am Shadow Pirate Rasetsu,**" The newly-formed giant rumbled, its voice heavily distorted by the sheer amount of necromantic magic coursing through its body, and it extracted one of its stingers from the ground, pointing it menacingly straight at the White Knight's heart. "**And you will not leave here alive!"**

Abel's eyes narrowed, and his grip on the Dragon Sword tightened - this was going to be tougher than he anticipated.

Rasetsu attacked first - charging forward like a bull, the shadow pirate roared in fury as it swung its massive claws in an attempt to disembowel the White Knight. Abel reflexively dodged, barely avoiding the claws by inches as he threw himself to the right in a dodging roll.

Quickly recovering, the White Knight dashed forward and slashed once with the Dragon Sword. With a speed the belied its massive frame, Rasetsu parried aside the blow, but Abel quickly recovered, rolling to the side and delivering another two quick slices, carving a pair of deep gashes into the giant pirate's left leg and severing the tendons that kept it upright. With a surprised roar, the giant toppled down to one knee, its left leg unable to take its weight any longer.

Abel poised himself to strike, when out of nowhere Rasetsu suddenly lashed out with its claws, nearly gutting the White Knight where he stood. Eyes widening at the close call, Abel quickly backflipped in a retreat, readying himself for his next attack.

"Flying Swallow... Divine Flying Swallow!"

Leaping forward, Abel's body blurred in not just one, but _two_ consecutive Flying Swallow dives. It would have been enough to instantly decimate any conventional opponent - however, Rasetsu was anything but conventional.

Abel completed both diving slashes successfully, but Rasetsu somehow managed to block _both _of them with blinding speed, the strikes ricocheting harmlessly off of the iron-hard carapace that covered the stingers protruding from his back. The White Knight landed behind Rasetsu, ready to strike again, when the shadow pirate unexpectedly swung around on its one good leg, its claws flailing. Quickly raising the Dragon Sword up to block, Abel was nearly sent flying as the sheer force of the blow knocked the Dragon Sword's steel blade aside.

A follow-up swing nearly took his head off, and Abel reflexively threw himself into a forward roll, coming within inches of Rasetsu's body, and coming up onto his feet just behind the shadow pirate, its broad back a large, exposed target.

Leaping upwards, Abel buried his blade in the shadow pirate's back, lifting himself up on it and drawing the Yamato simultaneously. Stabbing the Yamato downwards into Rasetsu's broad back and extracting the Dragon Sword, Abel struck several times - each swipe carved a deep, red line in the brute's back, and the giant monster immediately began flailing about, desperately trying to shake off the gnat that had buried itself in its back.

One of its stingers came swinging by, and it clocked Abel solidly in his side - white-hot agony slashed through his ribcage as the White Knight was sent flying, and the Yamato torn from his hand, though he still maintained his death grip on the Dragon Sword's handle.

He slammed into the wooden deck of the ship, splintering floorboards and shredding them in his wake as he slid across the deck. Cursing, Abel quickly flipped himself back up onto his feet, examining the wound in his side - Rasetsu's stinger had sliced cleanly through his plate armor, and there was a deep gash in his side that was leaking copious amounts of blood. However, it hadn't been for nothing - Rasetsu had already been immobilized, and was kneeling on the deck, helpless for the moment. No doubt it would doggedly begin crawling towards him on its one remaining leg soon enough, and Abel had no intention of even giving it that much time.

"Thunder Charge... Oblivion Cross Cut!"

Lightning arced over the Dragon Sword's blade as Abel activated his most powerful elemental charge, and he streaked forward in a blur, slicing and dicing away at the giant brute before it could even move to defend itself. Three lightning fast slashes and a single spinning strike later, the brute was on the floor, missing one of its arms, and unable to stand on both of its legs. Resolving to use the Obliteration Technique again, Abel took off both of Rasetsu's legs with a single swing, and put it out of its misery with a downward strike to its neck, sending its massive carcass toppling to the floor.

Gasping in exhaustion, Abel contorted his face in pain, and examined the wound in his side more closely - what he saw did not rouse his hopes much.

Rasetsu's stinger had sliced cleanly through three inches of mythril plating that had been reinforced internally with layers of adamantium, and had damn near cut his abdomen open. There was a large gash where the shadow pirate's stinger had pierced through Abel's armor, and it was leaking copious amounts of blood - already, the White Knight was starting to feel giddy and light-headed, and his legs refused to stop shaking. For the first time in months, self-doubt began to creep at the edges of his mind, whispering of the dangers of failure, and what it would cost him if he did.

_Gods, Locke, get it together. You've done this a thousand times before, and you'll do it again._ Abel thought to himself in disgust, and sat down on the floor, setting about dressing his wound with mechanical efficiency.

It had been years since he had been but a lowly swordsman, still fresh into his warrior's course in the Pioneer's Academy. It had been one particular lesson with his brutally strict trainer where he learned a valuable lesson - one that both he and James had learned the hard way through him, and had saved their lives many times before.

_That damned Kisuke Urahara... Only he could awaken someone's survival instinct by driving them into a corner and whaling on them until they cracked and lashed back. _Abel thought to himself, remembering the credo that Urahara had taught both him and James - **When you dodge, "I won't let them cut me." If you protect someone, "I won't let them die." If you attack, "I will kill them."**

**Hesitation will dull your blade.**

First thing to come off was his breastplate as Abel hastily unbuckled it and let the heavy cuirass fall to the deck with a loud clatter, and he quickly brought a can of antiseptic spray and a large roll of first aid bandages from his pack.

Gritting his teeth against the sting, Abel sprayed his wound multipled times with the antiseptics, and he quickly set about wrapping the wound in his side tightly with the bandages he brought out before the bleeding got any worse. With a grunt of pain, he finished tying the final knot that would keep his bandages in place, and swiftly put his cuirass back on, repairing the damaged areas with quick-repair, self-sealing cement - the protection he had over those areas would be diminished compared to the undamaged areas of his armor, but it was better than walking around with a cuirass full of holes.

Grunting, Abel got to his feet and quickly popped another three syrettes of stimulants, two filled with concentrated health potion solution to give a boost to his vitality, and one filled with a concentrated mana potion solution to keep his magical abilities up to par. The brief resting period had just been enough to get him back to something that resembled a feeling of normalcy - the lancing pain in his side had subsided to a mild, dull throbbing as the painkillers in Hiroshi's stimulant syrettes took effect, and Abel could move without so much of hurting with every step he took.

And it sure as hell felt like he was going to need it - right ahead of him were the double heavy duty doors that led into the engine room, where Captain Latanica resided, and he could feel a monstrous reiatsu emanating from inside, one that dwarfed even that of the shadow pirate he had just faced and defeated.

Such a demonic presence would have given a lesser man pause, but Abel was far from an ordinary man. The White Knight paused for a moment, and then smirked, sarcastically hoping to himself that the captain would still find it in his heart to be reasonable.

Ralph's bottle of White Essence found its way into his hand, and he smashed it at the doorstep of the engine room, and watched the very face of madness emerge from the depths of darkness.

* * *

**Marauder's Headquarters**

The very first that James had entered Hiroshi Takei's massive workshop, he had felt as if he were walking into a real-world representation of the inside of Hiroshi's head. Although he had become accustomed to the barely controlled chaos that the workshop represented, as all the other Marauders had, that initial impression had never left him.

The amazing thing was that Hiroshi Takei was never able to find - for example - a particular memo, even if it was in the correct file drawer in the proper file. That was the kind of thing that many of the Marauders helped him handle whenever he was out of the workshop, so many times that he completely stopped noticing when they were actually helping him out with it. In Takei's workshop however, none of the Marauders' help would have would have had any change; they would have been too overwhelmed by the mess. And yet the Japanese Outlaw could locate whatever tool he needed or part he required in seconds, typically pulling it out from under a pile of half a dozen other assorted things. It was uncanny beyond human.

Of course, it probably would have had something to do with the fact that "Takei" wasn't Hiroshi's last name - it was his middle name.

"Stark" was his last.

And it was a very little known fact that Hiroshi Takei Stark was in fact a distant descendant of Howard Anthony Stark and Anthony Edward Stark, both father and son, and two of the greatest inventors to ever grace Bera. It was they who had revolutionized the technologies that allowed the Pirates' Job Class to rise to dominance, and allowing them to contend with the already-established Warriors, Bowmen, Magicians and Thieves, courtesy of the now-defunct _Stark Industries_ that used to be based in Kerning City.

All of this ran through James' head in about five seconds as he walked inside Hiroshi's workshop with Ethan, and he walked over to where the Outlaw was working on some unidentifiable technological contraption, dumping the Tengu Nose right in the working Outlaw's face.

"About time you guys got back," Hiroshi uttered without even looking up to acknowledge them, still submerged in his work. "I've been looking into Ergoth's history, and I found something out that the books neglected to tell us."

"Go figure," Ethan muttered. "There's always something missing. Never did like history."

"Can it, Mendez. You need to hear this, especially if you want to know exactly what you're up against. There's a lot more to Ergoth than I initially thought." Hiroshi reprimanded as he finally snapped down a final lock in the contraption he was working on - one that looked vaguely like a gauntlet of some sort - and stood up, wiping off his soot-covered hands on an equally filthy rag. Without even pausing, the Outlaw strode away from his table and towards his personal library.

"All right, you both know that the history books said that Ergoth was a demon, summoned by Sharen to protect the Rubian. Following me so far?"

Hesitantly, James nodded, but he did not like the direction the conversation was proceeding in. This was hinting too much at what he had seen in his vision at Showa. Ethan however, had no clue what Hiroshi was getting at, and his reaction was one to be recorded when Hiroshi finally dropped the bombshell.

"Well, what they didn't tell us was that Ergoth _wasn't_ a originally demon in the first place."

A cold stone formed in James' gut as he swallowed - this completely matched up with what he had seen in that vision/dream while he had been in Showa, and it did not bode well.

Ethan however, had not had any previous warning whatsoever, and his reaction was akin to his jaw muscles going completely slack.

"What, so you're saying that he was human to begin with?" The ranger asked incredulously. "Bullcrap, I saw that thing for myself, there's no way that damned spectre used to be a human!"

"Believe me, I've done my research. I know what I'm talking about," Hiroshi declared, turning to James. "James, you look like you know what I'm talking about."

Reluctantly, the crusader nodded. "He's right, Ethan. I had a vision back in Showa... and I saw him. Ergoth _was_ human to begin with."

"Exactly," Hiroshi stated, and took out an old, dusty tome that looked like its age was greater than the age all of the other "old, dusty" tomes in Hiroshi's library combined together. "And you two are going to need to know what his capabilities were back when he was human, because he came from a time even before the Sharenian Empire had risen to power."

Flipping open the tome in his hand, he turned to a certain page, and tossed it onto the table between him and James, showing a portrait of an ancient warrior, clad in a black Shihakusho, and wielding Hiroshi's patented Zanpakuto.

"He came from the time of the Shinigami."

"The what?"

James' answer was priceless - Ethan couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Have you led a completely deprived childhood, James? I thought you of all people would know of the legend of the Shinigami. Death Gods, the personification of Death itself. They ferried souls to and from the afterlife, and exorcised evil spirits that lingered on in the material world. Of course, that's what the legends say, and no proof of their existence has ever been discovered-"

"That's why it's important for you to hear this, the both of you." Hiroshi suddenly interjected. "This is something that I have never told any of the Marauders - your very Zanpakutos are proof of the Shinigami's existence."

If James had been nonplussed by Hiroshi's declaration of Ergoth coming from the time of the Shinigami, Ethan was completely bowled over by this new piece of information - the ranger almost fell over from the sheer shock of it, and he stared at the pentacle that hung from his wrist - his precious Quincy Cross and the very source of his power, and then gazed at his Dark Arund, staring disbelievingly, unable to comprehend the revelation that all this time, he had been wielding a power far more ancient than even the Four Wise Men themselves.

"The main source of every Shinigami's power was their Zanpakuto," The Outlaw continued, rattling on as James listened in rapt attention, not wanting to miss a single detail. "And between every wielder, each individual Zanpakuto varied, very much the same as each Marauder now has their own special form for their Soul Slayer. Because your Zanpakutos are proof of the Shinigami's existence, that also would mean one thing - Ergoth will have a Zanpakuto of his own, and you're going to need to be prepared for that."

James pursed his lips worriedly, his mind rapidly matching up the events in his vision to what Hiroshi was telling him now, connecting all the dots and coming up with conlcusions that he did not like - not only was Ergoth far more powerful than himself, he would also be far more well-versed in the Shinigami arts than the crusader. If he went to fight the bastard now, it would be a completely one-sided fight that wouldn't take any brains at all to guess who would win.

He was going to need to wait around for the rest to show up, and then still wait for Hiroshi to finish up building whatever he was working on...

Oh yeah. There was still one more reason why they had to rush this thing.

"Hiroshi, I've got bad news, and you're not going to like this. I suffered two psychic attacks during the course of our visit to Showa."

The japanese Outlaw had picked a stray cup of cold coffee from the table, and had been busy gulping it down when the crusader dropped the bombshell - as a result Hiroshi almost choked, and nearly spat out all the coffee in his mouth.

"Bloody hell James, why the hell didn't you tell me this earlier? This is _not_ good." The Outlaw said in visible distress, and he quickly set down the mug on his table, quickly running off to a nearby bookshelf and pulling out what seemed like a random volume to James - knowing Hiroshi though, it was probably exactly what the outlaw was looking for.

"Why, what's so bad about it? Sounds to me more like James hasn't been getting enough sleep and he's just got a couple of screws loose up there thanks to fatigue." Ethan said, utterly clueless to why Hiroshi was in a panic as the outlaw frantically flipped through pages in the book in front of him - the outlaw responded by stopping at particular page, and slamming his fist down on the table in frustration.

"Damnit! This is exactly what I hoped wouldn't happen. Seems like we have even less time than I originally thought we did." Glancing up at James in front of him, Hiroshi's grave expression did not comfort the crusader one bit.

"Tell me exactly what you saw in those attacks. _What did Ergoth put inside your head?_"

One by one, the details of what James saw in his visions came flowing out, and even Ethan seemed disturbed by the horrors the crusader had witnessed in his dreams - Hiroshi however, seemed downright unnerved, and the outlaw's eyes bored right into the book in front of him, completely unmoving, as James continued his recount of his experiences in Showa.

As the crusader finally finished, and Hiroshi let out a long breath, shaking his head.

"My friend, we, are screwed," The outlaw declared with a chilling finality, and James stiffened, unused to hearing such resignation from a descendant of Stark. Hiroshi was one never to abandon a problem or admit defeat easily, very much like James. If there existed a problem, there also existed a solution to it, and Hiroshi had _never_ failed to find one for every problem he ever encountered - to hear the pirate declaring that it was over with such finality was like hearing scientific proof that the world would end in 2012, and it was already 2010.

"What James saw in his vision confirms what I found out about Ergoth in my research - he was indeed a Shinigami, and he betrayed his comrades by studying forbidden necromancy in an attempt to gain more power. When they tried to arrest and execute him, he fought back, and escaped from them, driving himself into self-imposed exile, soon disappearing from their records after that. But right now, that's not important."

"James, Ergoth has forged a mental link with you using Tricia's memories of you, and the very bond that she shares with you as well. He's trying to draw you back into the ruins of Sharen so that he can absorb _your_ soul as well. But that's the least of your problems right now - if you don't head in there and destroy Ergoth soon, these visions are going to increase, both in frequency and intensity, until you'll eventually be driven insane by then. This is terminal; we don't have much time."

Ethan stared in shock at Hiroshi's statement, and James just stared blankly at him, still attempting to process what sounded like a death sentence.

Slolw, the crusader turned to a portrait on a nearby desk - a framed photo of all the Marauders, fully assembled and in the process of taking a candid shot: Logan was staring at the camera with his typical dour expression, Juliana placing bunny ears behind the Dragon Knight's head in her typical candor. Abel was standing behind the young Chief Bandit, beaming a million-dollar smile with his arm around Juliana's shoulder, and next to him was bespectacled Hiroshi, still covered in soot and a greasy workshop jumpsuit, having been dragged from the workshop for a photoshoot. In the centre were Isabella and Ethan, both smiling at the camera, the ranger's arm wrapped lovingly around his girlfriend's waist, and to their left...

Oh, Gods. Tricia. Tricia was with him in the photo, mirthfully rolling her eyes but smiling anyway as James playfully cradled her in his arms bridal style, the crusader beaming widely at the camera as well. Just looking at the photo was enough to make those unidentifiable pains in his chest that James hated to experience so much start up again, and he forced himself to look away, before the aching in his chest spread to his throat, and then his eyes.

"How much time do we have?" The words just came out of his mouth unbidden, and James found himself standing resolutely on his feet, his stance unwavering as he turned to look out into Hiroshi's workshop, where he finally got a clear glance at what the outlaw had been working on - a half-assembled suit of what looked like jet black armour, except that this one was far more streamlined than plating, and seemed to conform to the contours of the human body right down to the curves of the musculature. And it looked like it was just his size.

"Three days. Maybe less," Hiroshi answered, wringing his hands. "Ergoth isn't going to let you go - he sensed your power when you attacked him in the ruins, and now he wants your power for himself. He's not going to wait very long for it either."

"Then I'll go to him." James declared with his jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists. "He wants power? I'll give it to him, full strength. We'll see if he can handle it."

Just as Hiroshi was about to answer, there was a massive crash from the direction of the entrance to the Marauders' sanctuary, and immediately all three occupants of the room had their weapons out, their bodies tensed and ready for combat.

It seemed that there was going to be a lot of it too - Ethan's eyes had immediately shifted to the Byakugan's distinctive milky white, and his expression did not look anticipatory.

"It looks like Ergoth himself's going to have to wait - we've got company. Looks like his minions want a taste of it too."

* * *

A/N: You know what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own MapleStory. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of characters or events to real-life persons or events is purely coincidental.

* * *

A/N:** This chapter is gonna be a little longer than usual, as it focuses on two separate locations of action - pretty much the content of two chapters squeezed into one. Still... can't be all that long compared to Absol's OtDotS xD.**

A/N 2: **I made an extension to this chapter, adding a thousand or so words to the end - the next chapter is 100 percent ready, but I'm just waiting for a couple more weeks (and reviews) before posting it up.  
**

* * *

**The Flying Dutchman**

The very face of madness stared into Abel's eyes, and the White Knight stared right back, completely unflinching in his resolution.

"You're the very first person who's ever made it this far in, you know." Captain Latanica commented as his eyes glowed a hellish red, eyeing his new opponent like a cat studying its prey. "I wonder if you actually know what you're in for."

"Your lackeys' skills must be woefully inadequate then," Abel replied in half-hearted banter, unsheathing the Yamato from his hip. "I had such an easy time getting in here. Heck, it felt like they were actually _helping_ me to get in."

Latanica's grin in response to that was predatory - it would've sent shivers down a lesser man's spine, but Abel held fast, gripping onto the Yamato's handle resolutely, standing his ground.

"Well then, whelp, you'd best take a good look at this patch here." Turning slightly, the captain exposed the shoulder of his right sleeve, where Abel finally saw the insignia that had been sewn on - the four gold bars of a Captain of the British Royal Navy.

"I'm the captain of this ship. _None_ of the pirates you have fought up until here are as strong as me, not even Rasetsu."

Almost imperceptibly, Latanica's empty left hand clenched into a fist, as the glow of the lantern in his right intensified, and Abel immediately dropped into a ready stance - for all the good it did him.

"As far as I'm concerned, _they're all just **trash!**_"

Moving impossibly fast, Latanica's fist lashed out, and Abel was sent flying backwards, crashing into the wooden wall behind him and leaving behind a visible crater. Splinters and broken wooden boards clattered to the ground as Abel's body soon followed suit, and the White Knight shut his eyes tightly as blood surged upwards from his throat, wincing at the intensifying throbbing in his side - looks like the impact had bruised a rib in addition to opening the wound Rasetsu had inflicted on him.

"You are going to regret ever setting foot inside this ship, boy." Latanica declared as he took a step towards the fallen White Knight, the sheer monstrous force of his reiatsu growing in intensity, pressing down on Abel's shoulders like a tangible weight until it was all he could do to stand back up.

Blood dripping from his mouth, and the throbbing pain in his side intensifying, Abel Wade Wilson Locke still forced himself to his feet, and gave the undead captain a bloody grin. "I don't suppose there's any chance we'd be able to talk the rest of this out?"

Latanica's answer came in the form of another thrust of psychic energy - this one Abel solidly blocked with his forearm, barely even flinching, and he wrenched it aside, the Yamato's steel blade unsheathed and glistening in anticipation.

"I really wish it didn't have to come to this." The White Knight remarked woefully, and dropped down into a crouch, readying the Yamato's blade in a charging stance behind him.

"_**KAIO-KEN x4!**_" _(Kaio-ken: Fist of the Worlds)_

A blazing crimson aura suddenly flared to life around Abel, its power instantly matching up evenly against Latanica's own monstrous spiritual pressure - the strength of Abel's reiatsu instantly _quadrupled_, and then, amazingly, _held steady_, openly challenging Latanica's supposed superiority.

But the fallen captain's only response to this was an arched eyebrow, as though what he was seeing was merely an amateur's magician's trick that he was not terribly impressed with.

"Ho, so you know of the Eight Gates Technique?" Latanica muttered, setting down his lamp and pulling out a cutlass from its scabbard on his belt, its blade made of the very same black, unidentifiable substance as his body. "And you're even able to open them up to the Second Gate..."

Almost as if on cue, the cutlass' blade liquefied, turning into the flowing, wavy patterns of a whip, and Latanica flourished it several times, making several intimidating _cracks! _that even Abel nearly winced at - if that came into contact with his body, it would certainly penetrate a lot more than just his plate armor. "Well, not that it's going to matter in the long run, boy! This ship will still be your tomb!"

Cursing as the fallen captain attacked, Abel braced himself for what could be the toughest battle of his life, and responded with a defiant roar of his own, charging forward with the Yamato raised.

* * *

**Marauder's HQ**

As he looked around the remnants of the Marauders' headquarters, James realized to his chagrin that far more damage had been inflicted than he had expected. Hiroshi's workshop was in ruins, many of his bookshelves of schematics and worktables filled with parts lying in pieces, their contents scattered all over the floor.

The entire workshop was swarming with undead Husks of all kinds, some wielding swords and spears, others carrying in bows and crossbows. It seemed that there was an undead version here for every Job class that existed in Bera. Some of the undead warriors were even fighting bare-knuckled like the Buccaneers of the Pirate class.

From the other side of the workshop several gunshots suddenly rang out in succession, and there was a cry of outrage as yet another table was smashed in a minion's rampage – Hiroshi was still fighting, and evidently very, very pissed.

It was going to take quite a while for them to recover from this, but if there was anything James could do now, it would be preventing Ergoth's minions from causing any more damage.

With an unearthly howl, the crusader activated his Sharingan, and leapt into the fray, followed closely by Ethan, as he ploughed through the crowds with Zangetsu in his grip. Several skeletons closed in upon him at once, and James simply smirked, raising his giant cleaver over his head.

"_Getsuga Tenshou!_"

Almost immediately, the distinctive blue-white aura surrounded Zangetsu's blade, but instead of releasing it outwards in his signature blade-beam attack, the aura was retained within the blade, and James swung it thrice, each slash granted the power to pierce the heavens – the three skeletal warriors, directly in front of the crusader, were instantly reduced to dust as the sheer power of each slash _pulverized_ their bones to atoms.

Behind him, another pack of undead warriors sought to flank them, and James heard Ethan turning around to cover his back.

"_Seele Schneider!" (Seele Schneider: Soul Cutter)_

Almost instantaneously a short, ethereal blade two feet long that seemed to composed out of pure energy appeared in his hand, but instead of wielding it as a short sword, Ethan strung it into his bow, and fired it at the incoming pack of warriors.

The resulting shot nearly blew half of them away at once. The ethereal blade turned into an ethereal missile as it streaked right into the middle of the pack, blowing a fist-sized hole in the chest of one as it smashed right through it, and it embedded itself in the sternum of another before it detonated with the force of a grenade, wiping out half of the group in the resulting explosion.

The ranger was quick to finish off the rest with pinpoint Double Shots from Kojaku, his Byakugan aiding in his two-hit-kills as he shot each one through their chain link and soul sleep, cutting off the link to the necromantic powers that sustained their animation, and rendering them lifeless.

Slicing and shooting their way through the hordes, the duo fought their way to the other side of the workshop, where more and more gunshots rang out by the second. By the time James finished cutting a final pack of skeletons down to size, it sounded as though Hiroshi was firing a machine gun on full automatic.

Ethan surged ahead of James as the crusader recovered from executing a _Getsuga Tenshou_, and blew away three Husks with a single _Seele Schneider _shot – the sight that it revealed nearly blew them away.

Hiroshi stood in a giant circle of collapsed skeleton bodies, each and every one slain by his bullets. But for every slain Husk that lay on the floor, a dozen more surrounded the outlaw, circling around him like a pack of hungry wolves.

Almost as one, the skeletons all gave a bloodthirsty roar simultaneously, and two dozen of them leapt upon Hiroshi at once, their weapons raised. Just before the outlaw was completely enveloped by the sheer amount of bodies, James heard a rapid series of consecutive _click!_s – that distinctive sound that Hiroshi had chambered a bullet inside his Peacemaker revolvers, and was getting ready to rock and roll.

"Bloody Overdrive!"

As though a dam had burst, a sudden barrage of bullets erupted from the Outlaw's position, blowing away every single skeleton that had pounced upon him. Hiroshi spun himself around in a full circle, firing off dozens of bullets in a fully-automatic fussilade as he spun both his pistols around like a pair of nunchuks, squeezing off shots at positions and angles that seemed humanly impossible. Yet, somehow they were all flawlessly executed, splitting heads and blowing chests open with every bullet fired.

But for every skeletal warrior that the outlaw slew, dozens more stood ready to take their places. Knowing that there was no way Hiroshi could take on the entire horde by himself, James and Ethan charged as one into the fray, determined to help lighten the load.

The very first thing that James did was to leap six feet directly into the air, but not towards the horde that surrounded Hiroshi. Almost as though reading his mind, Ethan stepped underneath James as the crusader began to drop, and almost moving as one, Ethan outstretched his arm for James to plant both feet solidly upon his forearm, and the ranger gave a mighty upwards fling, James pushing off simultaneously with both of his legs in a powerful jump.

The result was the crusader being flung upwards into the air almost twenty feet, a backwards part of his mind absently thankful for the spacious roof of Hiroshi's workshop as he damn near grazed against it, and then he prepared to slam into the ground near the outlaw, where he would easily blow away at least a quarter of the horde that surrounded them.

"Braver!"

Again, the blue-white aura of a _Getsuga_ surrounded Zangetsu's cleaver-like blade, and the crusader descended like a meteor, with a righteous fury backing his blow. Crashing straight into the ground with the relative force of a nuclear warhead, James' expectations were fulfilled as the shockwave instantly decimated a quarter of the horde that surrounded them.

Looking up as he extracted Zangetsu from the ground, James finally got a clear look at Hiroshi's expression, and nearly balked - the outlaw was practically livid, one emotion that he had never seen the pirate express, and James could tell that he did _not_ want to be on the receiving end of Hiroshi's wrath.

"James, I know that it isn't directly your fault that they found us, but still, _SOMEBODY IS GOING TO PAY FOR WRECKING MY WORKSHOP!!!_"

The crusader winced inwardly at Hiroshi's roar, and pitied any of Ergoth's minions that ended up in Hiroshi's sights; if James knew the Outlaw at all, he would definitely be aiming at places a lot more painful than simply heads and vital organs.

But there wasn't any time for further banter - the horde surged back, its numbers as limitless as ever, and the trio were plunged back into a mad melee as Ergoth's warriors swarmed upon them once again. James fought with all his might, slashing and cutting whatever opponent came up in front of him, but his movements began to turn sluggish, slowly but surely, and more and more hits began to ping off his plate armor as they slipped through his defenses.

Behind him, Ethan snapped his bow back and forth, stringing in arrows repeatedly with such fervor that his fingers were beginning to bleed through his gloves, but his shots were beginning to go off mark, even with the inhuman precision granted to him by his Byakugan - exhaustion was getting to them. Even Hiroshi's aiming began to turn sloppy, some of his shots even going wide and missing their targets completely, earning a loud curse from the Outlaw every time he wasted a bullet. If they didn't finish off the horde soon, attrition would finish _them_ off.

"Impact shot!" James suddenly heard Hiroshi shout over the din of battle, and he immediately leapt backwards from the throng of skeletons he had been about to engage in close-combat; a split-second after he cleared the blast radius, a huge, concussive explosion detonated right in the middle of the group, scattering the undead Husks and sending their pieces flying in all directions.

Spinning around to face the Outlaw, James lunged forward, Zangetsu at the ready, and Hiroshi immediately ducked down - Zangetsu's blade thrust over his head with inches to spare, and instead buried itself in the chest of the Husk that had been about to stab Hiroshi in the back.

James tore his blade out of the Husk's chest in a shower of bone fragments, and he quickly felt Hiroshi's back press up against his, the Outlaw's frame shaking several times in rythm with the series of loud _BOOM!s_ that echoed behind him, as Hiroshi fired his Peacemaker revolvers again and again. Fighting back-to-back alongside the technical genius of the Marauders, James cut down any Husk that attempted to take him on, but the sinking feeling that this was a fight they could not win bogged down on his mind, a nagging despair that he struggled to fight off.

Tricia's soul was on the line, and he would be damned before he let it end like this. A defiant shout erupted from the very depths from his chest, a primal roar in denial of the possibility of defeat, and James charged forward into the horde, Ethan and Hiroshi automatically moving to cover their charging commander's back.

He had nearly died once, when Ergoth had taken Tricia away from him. He didn't intend for it to happen again, especially not now, and his defiance of the reality so cruelly imposed upon him was summed up into a single statement, one that he carried with him as he waded into a river of blood.

"Come on, you bastards, make my day! _Getsuga Tenshou!!!"_

* * *

**The Flying Dutchman**

The White Knight was the first to attack, sprinting forward with the Yamato and dashing his hand once over its steel blade, letting his reiatsu flow through it and activating his elemental charges.

"Fire Charge!"

Again, the Yamato's blade was wreathed in flames as Abel's spiritual energy flowed into his sword, and he leapt forward in a diving charge, ready to land the first strike.

"_Konoha Senpu!_" _[Leaf Whirlwind!]_

Flames following in his wake, Abel streaked forward like a bullet, intent on taking Latanica's head off with a single swipe, but before the Yamato could even come close to touching the undead captain, a giant black wall of... _something_, suddenly came up between his blade and the captain's neck, effortlessly blocking its passage like a concrete wall.

His incredible forward momentum suddenly stopped short, Abel's body could only do one thing - follow the laws of physics. Newton's Third Law of Motion dictated that every action had an equal, opposite reaction; as such, the sheer forward momentum of Abel's diving attack was transferred into Latanica's barrier, absorbed effortlessly by it, and reflected back onto the White Knight, stopping his charge cold and leaving him at a dead stop, right in Latanica's reach.

Cursing as he landed, Abel quickly looked up in a panic, searching for the attack that was surely coming his way. Certainly enough, Latanica's whip hurtled towards him, and Abel fought down the reflex to block with the Yamato; the whip would surely curve around his defense completely and still land a very painful hit on him.

Desperately rolling to the side, Abel dodged Latanica's whip by a few scant inches, the fallen captain's weapon making a sickening _crack!_ against the floorboards of the deck, and leaving behind a blazing furrow several inches deep. Quickly coming back onto his feet, Abel threw himself into a backwards somersault, vaulting backwards several meters, and far away from the follow-up strikes that Latanica attempted to nail him with.

Without missing a beat, Abel charged forward again, mixing in some of his hand-to-hand combat techniques along with swordplay in an attempt to keep Latanica off-balance, but to no avail. Every punch, kick, and slash he threw at the undead captain, it was effortlessly repelled by the mysterious black wall of slime that somehow managed to intercept every one of his blows at the very last moment.

All of a sudden, the shield of slime split outwards, several of its many malevolent tendrils reaching outwards towards him, curving around his side and attempting to attack his flank. Abel barely saw the offending tendrils out of the corner of his vision, and immediately turned to face it, the Dragon Sword flying out of its sheath on his back and into his left hand. Mercilessly, Abel sliced and slashed with all the speed he could muster as he cut down all the tendrils that attempted to take a hold of him, but there were simply too many of them. The moment he felt a glacial chill pass through his left leg as one of the tendrils brushed against his calf, Abel threw himself backwards with all his might, as far away as he could leap away - but not before artfully adding in a little something extra to turn even his hasty retreat into an offensive maneuver.

Focusing his reiatsu into his fingertips, Abel simply added a little touch of his lightning-element powers into it to boost its strength a little, and let fly with the spell from both hands even as he flipped backwards.

"_Hadō no Yon: Byakurai!"_ [Art of Destruction #4: Pale Lightning]

Cast in rapid succession, the two consecutive lightning bolts shot forth from Abel's extended fingertips, streaking straight towards the fallen captain. Each bolt by default had enough power behind it to burn through three inches of adamantium - that was the equivalent of punching right through Abel's shoulder plate armor without any resistance at all, and Abel's little lightning-element enhancement had boosted its power until it was half again as strong as it was. Couple that with the sheer suddenness with which he had unleashed the spell, and Abel was confident that there was no way Latanica could block it at all.

He was sorely disappointed.

The lightning bolts struck home, but to no effect whatsoever. Latanica's shield intercepted even Abel's hastily-cast spell with impossible speed, and the dual lightning bolts left barely any mark that they had even fazed the fallen captain's barrier.

And as Abel lamented the failure of his attacks, mentally, the fallen captain grinned savagely.

_"Fool. Such slow attacks have no effect on me. Regardless of my will, my spirit shield will always move to protect me. And that is why, no one has _ever_... hurt me."_

_Damn it, he hasn't even budged an inch! _Abel cursed inwardly to himself as he realized how ineffectual his entire assault had been. Throughout the White Knight's entire series of attacks, Latanica had not even taken a step from where he stood, and he was simply standing there with a bored expression etched upon his terrible visage.

Abel had recalled Hiroshi's report on Latanica covering such a kind of defense, but certainly not to this kind of extent! The Outlaw's file had detailed that Latanica possessed a sentient shield of black slime that constantly defended the undead captain regardless of his will, supposedly nullifying all physical attacks directed at him - that was the one part where Hiroshi's report was wrong.

Latanica's shield didn't just deflect physical attacks. It deflected _every single attack_ that Abel could throw at it.

"Is that it?" Latanica suddenly asked as Abel started at the captain's abrupt speech. "Come on, I was expecting better. Let me enjoy this a little bit more. There isn't enough..."

The captain's eyes suddenly blazed an even more hellish red, and he turned to face Abel, Latanica's maddened grin a terrifying sight to behold. "... **blood.**"

Before Abel could even react, the tendrils exploded outwards again, joined by Latanica's whip, this time reaching directly for Abel with frightening swiftness. The tendrils lashed against the White Knight's plate armor before he could even make an attempt to dodge, sending him flying backwards and into the wall once again. Fortunately, Abel was spared a rough landing and he recovered quickly, rolling out of the way just in the nick of time - a gigantic pillar of solidified slime that was as large as he was tall rammed right into the spot he had occupied a split-second ago with enough force to reduce him to a pulp.

On the White Knight's part, not a single movement was wasted. Just as he came out of his roll, he dashed forward again, unrelenting in his offense, his teeth gritted determinedly. There _had_ to be some way to penetrate Latanica's defenses!

Unleashing another flurry of stabs, kicks, and punches, Abel threw all of the speed he could muster into his attacks, but Latanica's shield infuriatingly intercepted every single blow the White Knight threw at him. Just as he was about to unleash another Oblivion Cross Cut, the slime surged forward once more, almost completely engulfing him.

Horror seeped through Abel's mind for the scantest of seconds, then his body simply reacted to the threat as he threw himself into several successive backflips, each one carrying him further and further away from Latanica, until he was perched atop one of the giant engines that took up at least a third of the room.

It didn't take very long for Abel to analyze the situation and conclude that he was getting nowhere, fast. Apparently physical attacks weren't having any effect, and even his magic arts couldn't pierce through Latanica's barrier... at least, not at their current level of power.

There were only two things left to do. Somewhere in the back of his head he could hear Juliana's voice playfully shouting at him "_Yeah, Abel! Take them off!", _as the thought crossed his mind, and the White Knight smirked in humor. Ah, yes, the young Chief Bandit was always one for innocently flirtatious jokes, and Abel always just played along whenever Juliana started going on with her usual double entrendes.

His hands reached up to the shoulder clasps of his cuirass, and a flick of his fingers unbuckled the piece of plate armor, letting it fall to the deck beneath the giant engine he stood upon. Just as rapidly he removed all the other pieces of his suit of plate armor with deft flicks of his wrist, discarding his entire suit piece by piece, until all his armor had been taken off, revealing that he was wearing a dark green jumpsuit beneath his plate armor.

As they fell, Latanica spied small, rectangular blocks taped to the inside of the suit, and the black blocks immediately registered in the captain's mind as training weights.

"_Training weights?_" The captain thought to himself incredulously. _"What a primitive training method."_

The captain's disbelief only grew as a wide grin pasted itself upon Abel's face as the White Knight straightened and stretched outwards, the silly grin completely at odds with the fact that he had just discarded his only protection against Latanica's weapons. But what Abel said next completely took the cake.

"All right! I can _finally _move easier now!"

It was all Latanica could do not to burst out in derisive laughter. "_Ha! There's no way taking off a little weight will enable you to keep up with my spirit shield-"_

_**CRRAAAAAAAAAAAAASHHHHHH!!!**_

Latanica's train of thought was interrupted by a series of gargantuan crashes as the pieces of Abel's armor finally met with the deck, each landing with enough force to cause a miniature earthquake. The very floor itself _shook_ with the sheer amount of weight that suddenly descended upon it all at once, and just for that split-second, Abel took immense joy at the completely freaked out expression on Latanica's face.

It took almost all of Abel's willpower not to burst out laughing. Every single one of the Marauders had had an identical "What The Fuck" expression on their face when he had once demonstrated what he was capable of once he removed his self-imposed limiters, and after said demonstration, James had actually come up to him and said "_Isn't that a bit much of overkill, Abel?"_

_No, James. It isn't. After all, there is no kill like overkill. _Abel grinned, and then he disappeared from atop the engine.

To say that Latanica was taken by complete surprise would have been an understatement. One second the White Knight's reiatsu had been standing atop the giant engine all the way across the room, along with his physical body, and then the next, he had completely _disappeared..._

Until half a second later, when the White Knight's reiatsu popped up again, this time _right behind him_.

Latanica whipped around, preparing to parry aside what he perceived to be an incoming blow - only to witness just in time what appeared to be a bandaged fist inches away from his face, approaching at what seemed to be terminal velocity.

An impact was narrowly avoided as Latanica's spirit/slime shield intercepted the blow, but there was no denying how close that had been. Abel's fist had come within _inches_ of touching him. Him! Latanica, the lord of the seas, who had never once ever been even _touched_ by a physical blow!

Latanica lashed outwards with his whip, intent on striking back at the impudent warrior, and was rewarded with a complete miss as Abel suddenly disappeared from sight _again._

"Over here!" The warrior's voice suddenly sounded from behind him, and before Latanica could even turn around he felt another heavy blow swipe against his spirit shield, this one almost penetrating completely. _Ha! Close!_

_Damnit!_ The captain cursed inwardly as he spun around again and again in a futile attempt to see where Abel was striking from, but to no avail. _He's too fast!!!_

The White Knight was attacking too hard, too fast, and from too many areas all at once. Surrounded by an untouchable green blur, Latanica was almost helpless to retaliate, and slowly but surely, Abel's blows began to bypass Latanica's shield completely, until with a final, somersaulting kick, the White Knight's booted foot slammed right across the captain's cheek, leaving a deep vertical gash where his greave had struck.

_Yes!_ Abel thought confidently to himself as he skidded backwards on his feet, one hand on the ground to support his landing. _I got him!_

Latanica couldn't believe what had just happened. _He_ had just been wounded! Not even in ten years had _anybody_ managed to land a blow on him, and then this... this_ impudent pup_ dared to have the gall to bloody him!? _No way... This petulant child was that strong?!_

Abel's triumph was short-lived however, as he soon realized that it was only a flesh wound he had inflicted - Latanica seemed barely fazed by the blow. But the White Knight was not one to be discouraged.

A laugh threatened to emerge from his mouth, and Abel couldn't help but grin as he remembered a phrase that Juliana was so fond of shouting in an attempt to ham up her appearances whenever she fought. The White Knight mentally debated the sheer ridiculousness of shouting it right now, and decided _what the heck. Latanica might end up so surprised I might be able to get in a few more hits._

The grin never stopped, and with a maniacal glint in his teeth, and a metaphorical fire blazing in his eyes, Abel straightened, and roared out with all his heart.

"_THE EXPLOSION OF YOUUUUUUUUUUUUTH!!!"_

As though high on Speed, Abel blasted forward again, reduced to nothing but a bright green, barely visible blur that streaked all sorts of zig-zagging patterns around Latanica, landing blows at a rate that a machine gun would have paled in comparison to.

Cursing, Latanica raised his whip and lashed about with it in all directions, but to no avail. Abel was just too fast. The moment he started his swing, the White Knight would disappear from sight, only to reappear right behind him. Any attempt to turn around to engage his foe simply resulted in Abel disappearing _again _to attack his flanks.

The turning point suddenly came as Abel activated another Thunder Charge, sending the lightning-elemental energies surging through the Dragon Sword's blade once again, having drawn the shorter sword in favor of faster striking speed over stopping power. Dashing forward with crackling sword in hand, Abel struck multiple times in the blink of an eye, leaving arcs of lightning playing across Latanica's spirit shield as it attempted to block his blows with increasingly partial success. As Abel finally felt his latest punch graze against Latanica's side, the fallen captain's defenses reaching another low point, he sent another surge of lightning through the Dragon Sword's blade, and unleashed the _ninjaken's_ most powerful melee technique.

"_Blade of the Emperor Dragon!!!_"

The blow literally carved right through Latanica's shield. It didn't matter whether it intercepted the blow or not - Abel's attack was so fast that Latanica's shield literally brushed right past Abel's electrified blade, but utterly failed to stop it. And what little of the shield that _did _manage to intercept the Dragon Sword's steel, it was instantly disintegrated as though it was made of cotton.

Latanica was instantly sent flying, hurtling across the room and landing roughly on his side several feet away from where Abel stood, the Dragon Sword held steadily where it had slashed across Latanica's abdomen and nearly disemboweled the captain._ Ha HA!! _Abel thought triumphantly to himself as he mentally did a fist pump. _I know he felt that one! His spirit guard couldn't keep up, that was a direct hit!_

The White Knight's joy however was short-lived, as Latanica suddenly twitched, and then began to drag himself back up onto his feet despite the massive slash wound in his side. Looking on in horror, Abel could only stare as the wound closed in upon itself with a giant sucking sound, until several moments later, there was not even a sign that Latanica had even been injured at all.

_Damn it... _Abel swore an oath mentally. High-speed regeneration... He should have seen this one coming. Nearly all higher-level undead spirits contained the capacity to almost instantaneously regenerate any damage that they sustained, the sheer concentration of _reishi_ that their bodies were composed of allowing them to immediately restore any loss of spiritual energy.

"Heh... heh... heheheheh..."

_Oh shit. _Abel realized that the soft laughter he was hearing was coming from Latanica, and it wasn't normal laughter either. It was the kind of laughter that usually preceded a blood knight going ax crazy - the kind of laughter that Logan usually let out before he went on his killing sprees.

"Is that really all you've got?" The maddened, gleeful grin on Latanica's face was unnerving, and it was all Abel could do not to cringe.

_Such incredible guards... _The White Knight thought mentally as he shifted into another ready stance. _Even if I take off my limiters to increase my speed, it _still_ isn't enough to faze him! There has to be some way to defeat him..._

Abel mentally ran through and discarded dozens of ideas in seconds, each one getting more and more desperate as he thought on. Eventually, after several agonizing moments later, he reached the conclusion that he wished he could have avoided.

_Looks like the only way... is to inflict damage from _above_ his guard then!_

_The _Renge_ should do the job! _[Renge: Lotus]

Raising the Dragon Sword horizontally in front of him, Abel held it in front of his chest, his eyes unreadable, as he placed his left hand palm-down on the top of the Dragon Sword's blade.

Looking up, Abel could tell that Latanica was watching him intently, and the White Knight merely smiled.

"Prepare yourself!"

Before Latanica could respond, Abel swept his hand across his blade like he did for every elemental charge, and finally raised his eyes to meet Latanica's - unshakable resolve burned within them, but it paled in comparison to the silent, but clear resolution that burned within what Abel uttered next.

"_Hoero... Zabimaru!" [Hoero: Howl, Zabimaru: __Snake Tail]_

Before Latanica's very eyes, the White Knight's ninjaken transformed in his hand, until its blade didn't even remotely resemble a Japanese sword. Its blade suddenly widened until it was three times its original width, with prongs jutting out of its inner side at even intervals, each prong marking an individual segment of the blade that the entire sword seemed to be split into... and then it dawned on Latanica what it was.

The captain had to hold back the urge to laugh as he realized that what Abel was now holding was merely a Ribgol Sword.

"If you think that you'll be able to beat me with a released weapon as _pathetic_ as that, you're even slower than I thought, warrior!" The captain called out mockingly. The impudence of the whelp in front of him was growing to incredulous levels, and Latanica decided that it was starting to reach levels so bad it was actually starting to get good; perhaps it would be worth toying with this child, at least for a little longer, before he crushed him absolutely.

But Abel merely grinned, and flourished his Ribgol Sword once - and it was then that Latanica realized that whatever the White Knight held in his hand, it was anything _but_ a Ribgol Sword. Upon the White Knight's flourish, a wave of sheer spiritual pressure had actually burst _outward _from where he stood, and the segments of his blade _separated, _revealing fibrous, tendon-like constructs that connected the segments together that moved and whipped about with unprecedented flexibility.

That wasn't just a blade; it was a _whip_ as well.

Then, as Abel raised his blade, the segments just beginning to reconnect, the White Knight disappeared from sight again.

But Latanica didn't have to look for him - the White Knight had inexplicably decided instead to begin running literal circles around him, moving so fast that not only was he a green blur, he was actually starting to leave dust trails in his wake as well, making it seem as though Latanica was surrounded by a whirlwind.

A vein threatened to pop in Latanica's forehead as he realized what the White Knight was doing - the bastard was trying to intimidate him through this display of speed, as though releasing his sword was enough to beat him. Of course, there wasn't anything being actually _done_ with the idiot simply running circles around him, and the fallen captain's impatience was growing.

"Hurry up and attack, whelp," Latanica ground out, his patience growing thin. "It won't make a different either way."

"You asked for it!" The White Knight's voice floated out from the dust ring circling him, and a split-second later, before Latanica could even react, a booted foot slammed right under his chin with such force that the fallen captain was actually _lifted _up into the air by several feet, launched airborne by the sheer strength of Abel's kick.

_What the... _Latanica could scarcely believe it. _My spirit shield didn't even have time to react...!_

"I'm not done yet!!!" Abel shouted from beneath him, and the White Knight shifted himself until he was _standing on his hands_ directly beneath Latanica, and _pushed himself off the ground_ with his arms, assaulting Latanica with repeated kicks to the abdomen, each kick launching them further and further up into the air.

_Damn it... _Latanica thought to himself even as he was launched further and further airborne. _My spirit guards can't keep up! What an incredible combo! I don't even have time to recover to dodge..._

But Latanica was not the only one worried. Even as Abel forced himself upwards kick by kick, each blow costing him more stamina and causing him more pain than the last, he was running through the specifics of the Lotus through his head.

The Lotus entailed dropping an enemy down from a great height at an incredible speed for massive damage, and with the swiftness of its execution, there would be no way Latanica's guards would be able to keep up with that kind of damage. Even right now his spirit shield could not keep up with him, and with the sheer amount of force that the Lotus used, even the undead captain himself would not be able to regenerate from _that._

But even the normal Lotus was a double-edged sword - it wasn't considered a forbidden technique for no reason. The Lotus was neither a magical arte nor an illusionary arte_ - it was a purely physical taijutsu technique. _The amount of strain that it caused on the body was unimaginable _- _he _had _to make sure that he finished this fight with this single move. If he didn't, his body would be in so much pain that he wouldn't be able to move at all; Latanica would be free to retaliate with impunity. He didn't want to take it up any further than he absolutely had to.

Abel forced out one more kick, and immediately a lance of pain shot up his side - it was so sudden that the White Knight could barely choke back his brief cry, but he could still not stop himself from wincing. It was just too much - just for a split-second, the White Knight paused from the pain, and Latanica's eyes widened in surprise. _That was.._._!_

But Abel recovered far faster than Latanica expected. With a determined shout, Abel swung Zabimaru around, the sword's whip-like blade encircling around the both of them, until they were both tightly entwined together.

Hanging on for dear life, Abel wrenched his body to the side in a movement that would initiate a spinning dive so swift that it was...

"_Omote Renge!!!" [Front Lotus!!!]_

_... _like watching a torpedo crash down at terminal velocity. With a gargantuan bang, the spinning duo slammed straight into the deck of the ship_, _the force of the impact crushing and splintering the wooden floor where they landed, and sending fragments and dust flying everywhere.

**_CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHH!!!!_**

As the dust settled, Abel could finally be seen as he leapt out of the dust cloud in a high backflip, landing on one knee and panting heavily, his expression clearly one of pain, but mixed in with the pain was a touch of triumph - the smile on his face betrayed it all.

"That... had to hurt." The White Knight gasped out in triumph as he struggled to catch his breath again, but the grin persisted on his face regardless.

He had done it!

Latanica's prone form lay in the centre of the crater in front of him, the fallen captain's body unmoving, the ectoplasm that his body was composed of hardened and covered in cracks. Even the shocked expression on his face remained, as though etched in stone.

But as Abel took a closer look, he began to realize that something was horribly wrong.

Latanica's expression was too fixed, too stoned, for a corpse's expression.

It looked more like the expression of a statue... or a substitute.

Then the cracks that webbed across Latanica's shocked visage crumbled further, and the pieces began to drop.

To drop inside the hollow, empty shell that had taken on the form and shape of his body.

* * *

_A/N: In the words of the legendary Kal Ancalas: Reviews pl0x. The next chapter is already 100 percent ready.  
_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own MapleStory, or any other references or shoutouts to other series that appear in this story. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of characters or events to real-life persons or events is purely coincidental.

* * *

A/N:** All right, those of you who read the later part of this chapter, I KNOW that the second job advancement test does not involve fighting a Stumpy, but I decided to change it up a little so that it's a little more a la Naruto's Chuunin Exam i.e. fighting one-on-one against an exceedingly powerful opponent to earn your higher rank. Also makes it a little easier to sync up with the present events as Abel fights Latanica. There's a lot more backstory and history to Abel's character as well as his development in this one, and I'm sure some of you might have found the previous chapter quite shallow with all its mindless action. Well, enjoy the latest chapter!**

* * *

**The Flying Dutchman**

_W... WHAT!?_ Abel howled mentally in his head, as he watched bits and pieces of Latanica's "corpse" fall off one by one, clattering to the floor and disintegrating into puddles of ectoplasm, until the entire dummy had reduced itself to nothing but a large pool of spiritual particles.

_What the... When did he- When did he switch!? That can't be!!!_

But even as he considered the question, Abel already knew the answer - and he cursed himself for it. It must have been when he had briefly paused from the pain of his assault; Latanica must have taken that brief moment to switch out and leave a decoy in his place!

As he realized that, Abel suddenly felt a monstrous presence rise up behind him, and he didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Latanica was _pissed, _and it didn't take the soft maniacal laughter coming out of Latanica's maddened grin for Abel to figure out that the fallen captain was planning on doing very painful things to him.

Grinning madly, Latanica didn't even raise his whip - instead dropping his weapon to the floor, Abel's confidence plummeted as he realized that Latanica was in fact, pulling out a stop. As the fallen captain raised his hands, Abel watched them form the all-too-familiar shape of the seal of the Tiger, and in response, his spirit shield came _alive, _writhing and squirming, and reaching right for Abel like the hands of death itself.

Cursing, Abel struggled to move, and screamed out in pain as his ravaged muscles violently protested. _Shit, there's no time...!_

Desperately, Abel raised his arms to block, barely able to parry aside the first blow that lashed against him, but before he could even react a second one slammed right into his chest_. _Screaming out in pain as his ribcage nearly caved in, Abel was flung backwards with such force that he was slammed into the engine room's wall yet again.

_Damnit... This isn't good! _Swearing internally, Abel desperately raised his palms to block again as his legs protested violently once more when he attempted to dodge. Unable to even move, Abel could only hunker down, and he bit back the scream of agony as Latanica's attack slammed into him once again like a battering ram, sandwiching him right between the rock that was the wall, and the hard place that was Latanica's attack.

Gasping for breath and panting furiously as Latanica retracted his attack, Abel struggled to force himself back onto his feet. He had to do something, _anything! _Even as he made small, tiny hops to dodge Latanica's subsequent blows, throwing himself to the side with what little strength he had left, it was still better than just standing there and taking it.

_Shoot... _Abel realized as he forcibly dragged out more energy from his tortured legs, pushing himself into an agonizingly slow run that still, _somehow, _managed to make Latanica's attacks miss him by mere inches... only that he soon realized he wasn't really dodging them.

_I can barely even move, and his attacks are still missing... The bastard is toying with me!_

As Latanica sent attack after deceptively slow attack after Abel, the fallen captain watched on gleefully in sadistic pleasure, licking his lips in excitement. Like a cat playing with a mouse that it had trapped by its tail, Latanica raised his hands again with excruciating slowness, making sure that Abel could see with painful clarity everything that he did.

Forming the seal of the Tiger again, Latanica sent forth another wave of blows extending from his sentient shield, and cackled in maniacal laughter at the panicked expression on the White Knight's face as Abel barely managed to throw himself out of the way in time.

His tortured body screaming out for respite, Abel pushed himself further than he ever had in ten years, even as his legs threatened to give out from beneath him. He reacted as best he could to Latanica's attacks, while desperately trying to come up with a solution to the situation that was getting more dire by the second.

Cheeks burning in shame, Abel rolled to the side as he dodged another blow, but it nicked him directly in the side with enough force to send him spinning several feet backwards.

Crying out in pain, Abel rolled back onto his feet as best he could, cursing the fact that he had been stuck in such an environment to fight against Latanica. Yes, he still had a trump card or two left... But if he released it _here_, the sheer force and power of it would absolutely destroy the ship around them, killing them both.

There _was _still the other one; it would still give him an edge while not causing as much disturbance as the former... but he would still need a much larger open space than this engine room to pull it off.

He didn't have a choice - he would have to lure Latanica out onto the deck of the ship.

So, when Latanica prepared to deal yet another torturing blow, the White Knight suddenly turned on his heel, and began sprinting for the door leading out of the engine room, fleeing from the battle.

"What, done already!?" Latanica boomed out in mocking laughter, immediately giving chase to the retreating Abel. "_Just try to run, warrior! I'll find you, I'll hunt you, and before I kill you, I _will _make sure that you suffer, just as _I _have suffered!"_

_Goddamnit... What the hell is he, some kind of Implacable Man!? _Abel thought frustratedly to himself as Latanica smashed through the closed double doors behind him. In a desperate panic, the White Knight sprinted through the labyrinth of corridors and cabins that made up the Flying Dutchman's interior, desperately trying not to trip and stumble, to ignore the white-hot burning in his legs as he pushed them far past their limit.

_At this rate, I'm going to... Damnit!  
_

_I have to get to the deck of the ship before I run out of steam...!_

_

* * *

_

**Fifteen years ago...**

_"Come on, you guys! Do your best! I'm going to add another 200 laps!"_

_The subsequent groans from the gathered group of eight-year-olds running laps around the field in front of him were so familiar that Warrior Instructor Iruka Umino wasn't affected at all. Still, the 200 laps that he had just added were nothing: the group of fledgling Swordsmen standing in front of him were used to running as many as 500 laps at a go without even breaking a sweat._

_As the youngsters picked up their running paces again, he heard some familiar laughter ring out, followed by a cry of, "Hahaha! Idiot! There's no way you'll be able to become a Swordsman!"_

_"Yes I can!"_

_Mentally, Iruka sighed. The boys were at it again..._

_And inside the group of running youths, an 8-year-old Abel Wade Wilson Locke was surrounded by his peers, every single one of them poking fun at him ruthlessly._

_"Come on! A guy who can't even use sword artes properly can't become a swordsman!"_

_Pouting stubbornly, his face set in a determined expression that refused to let his aggressors know they were getting under his skin, Abel refused to give in._

_"Yes I can!"_

_The kid running in front of him, a spiky-haired boy, turned his head to face Abel, a stupid, mocking grin on his face. "You know, it doesn't even make sense why a guy like you is even in the Academy in the first place, when your sword arte techniques are sub par, and you can't even control your mana properly!"_

_As the kids all around him continued laughing, the one running next to him suddenly shoved himself into him, running side-by-side with Abel, and sneered into his ear with a snide grin, "Do you know what you're called around here, Wade Wilson Locke?"_

_Scowling, Abel closed his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears, determined not to hear it, but as they all ganged up on him at once, shouting the word that cut deeper into him than any physical weapon could, Abel couldn't take it any more._

_"HOT-BLOODED!!"_

_"HOT-BLOODED!!!"_

_"HOT-BLOODED DROP-"_

_"**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!!"**_

_Screaming a wordless denial, Abel sprinted forward, shoving aside those standing in front of him, and sprinted away from the group as fast as his legs could carry him with his hands still clamped over his ears, ignoring the instructor's cries for him to get back in line._

_And unknown to Abel, from the other side of the field, observing from the second-floor window of a nearby building, was the White Knight Kisuke Urahara, looking down at the group from afar, quietly chuckling to himself._

_"So, is that the rumored hot-blooded dropout I've been hearing about?" He asked his companion who was leaning against the window next to him, to which the Crusader shrugged, and beneath his helmet, Urahara knew that he was smiling._

_"He certainly resembles someone, doesn't he?" Jake Giles Cyrus commented off-handedly, smirking from behind his helmet's visor, its 'window' open only just enough for his eyes to be visible. "Especially his eyebrows."_

_Turning to face Jake, Urahara raised a very thick, fuzzy eyebrow at the father of James Price Cyrus, and then gave a short laugh, turning back to watch the group as Abel sprinted further and further away._

_"Abel Locke... A student who can't use his sword techniques properly, hmm?"_

_

* * *

_

**_But... you practiced even those below-average sword techniques so hard..._**

**_

* * *

_**

**_THWACK!_**

_"Three hundred and ninety-six!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Three hundred and ninety-seven!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Three hundred and ninety-eight!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Three hundred and ninety-nine" _

**_THWACK!_**

_"Four hundred!"_

_The morning air was cool and dry, and even though the sun had not even begun to rise, Abel Locke was already up and training._

_Gasping for breath as his chest burned, the fledgling swordsman still doggedly pushed on with his training as he kicked the training log in front of him, again, and again, with such fervor, until the bark on the log's side had actually began to get chipped off, revealing the lighter wood beneath. He had been kicking with such force for so long, that even as blisters formed and burst on his foot, and his skin became severely abraded, he did not pause._

_"If I can't finish kicking this log five hundred times, then I shall do one thousand squats!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Four hundred and thirteen!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Four hundred and fourteen!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Four hundred and fifteen!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Four hundred and sixteen!"_

_Unbeknownst to the vigorously training child, another individual had approached his practice spot. Looking up in surprise as he heard a very young voice counting out the numbers with every thwack that sounded, Kisuke Urahara quickly replaced the blade of the Sparta he had been making practice swings with back inside its sheathe._

_"Hmm?" The White Knight quirked up a fuzzy eyebrow in surprise. "Someone got here before me?"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Four hundred and twenty-one!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Four hundred and twenty-two!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Four hundred and twenty-three!"_

**_THWACK!_**

_"Four hundred and twenty-four!"_

_Kisuke Urahara took a good long look at the youth doggedly kicking at the log, and then decided to leave him to his devices._

_"I guess I'll come back later..."_

_

* * *

_

_The afternoon sun was relentless in its heat, beating down upon the rocky cliffs of Perion, but Abel continued on regardless, ignoring the developing sunburns on his arms and neck. _Still_ at the very same log that he had been training at since the wee hours of the morning._

_"One thousand squats!" Abel forcefully told himself. "If I can't do that, then I'll have to do two thousand practice swings!"_

_Legs and stomach muscles already burning from the morning's regime, Abel stubbornly pushed his body onwards, ignoring the pains of his training even as his muscles threatened to cramp up. Sweat poured down his forehead and his body, and still he did not stop._

_"Seven hundred and ninety-five! Seven hundred and ninety-six! Seven hundred and ninety-seven! Seven hundred and ninety-eight!"_

_

* * *

_

_The sun had long set already, and the night sky was dotted with glimmering stars, the constellation of Orion shining brightly upon the cliffs of Perion below. Kisuke Urahara had returned to his regular training spot to catch up with the exercise he had missed in the morning, and discovered to his surprise, that the youth was _still _there, making practice swings at the worn out log with his Beginner's Sword._

_The White Knight's jaw dropped as he watched in awe, the youth's sheer doggedness and stubbornness completely unbelievable._

_"**By the Wise Men... That boy is still at it!?"**_

_"Two thousand practice swings!" Abel shouted as he slashed at the practice log again and again, ignoring the fatigue in his arms, and the abrasions developing on his hands. "If I can't do them, then I'll have to jump rope two thousand times!"_

_"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!..."_

_

* * *

_

**_You kept on practicing those sword techniques so frantically, and then, finally..._**

**_

* * *

_**

**One year later…**

_"All right!" Urahara regarded the three youths seated on the sofa in front of him with a wide, welcoming smile on his face, examining the assembled trainee team from the Academy that had been placed under his tutelage. "Today is the day you three are promoted to your First Job rank! First of all, I want to know what your goals are!"_

_Almost immediately, a hand on the right shot up, the ten-year-old girl that it belonged to beaming energetically. "Me! Me me me me!"_

_Already impressed by her youthful vibrance, Urahara looked at her, giving the girl a smile and his undivided attention. "Yes, Tricia Telfair?"_

_Fidgeting in her seat, and wrapped up in wizard robes two sizes too large that she looked absolutely tiny inside them, the daughter of Kerning City's Police Commissioner continued beaming as she enthusiastically answered, "I want to become a _really _strong wizard, just like the legendary archbishop, Clynine-sama! It's my dream!"_

_Nodding in approval, Urahara turned to face the archer who was seated to his left, on the right of the couch, his arm casually slung over the back of the sofa while maintaining an air of indifference._

_"What about you, Ethan Mendez?"_

_The nine-year-old child prodigy turned to give his new _sensei_ a blank stare, and then simply turned back to continue regarding the sofa's armrest. "I don't want to answer."_

_Upon hearing this, Urahara held back a frown. He had heard about Ethan's aloofness and indifference, despite the archer's phenomenal Academy grades, and he had been concerned should it develop into outright sociopathy. He would have to pay close attention to this one._

_And as though mirroring his _sensei's_ sentiments, the third ten-year-old sitting between his new teammates shot up his hand as well, looking straight at his _sensei_ with a fire and determination in his eyes that Urahara immediately spotted._

_"Me! Me! Even though I can't control my mana properly and can only use hand-to-hand combat techniques, I want to prove that I can still be an excellent warrior! That's everything to me!!!" Abel Wade Wilson Locke cried out with such passion that Urahara could not help but be completely taken in by his child-like, innocent enthusiasm. _

**This boy...**_ Urahara thought to himself with a smile. _**He has good eyes.**

_As if on cue, Ethan let out a derisive snort, and Abel almost immediately rounded on him._

_"You!!!" The freshly-promoted swordsman pointed an accusing finger at the lounging archer. "What's so funny about that!? I'm serious!"_

_"Even if I can only use hand-to-hand combat techniques, I _will_ still carry out my job as a warrior!"_

_

* * *

_

**Four years later...**

_Panting furiously as he sprinted as fast as he could despite the Dark Master Sergeant plate armor weighing him down, the level 30 Swordsman hefted his Gladius as he dodged another yet another swinging tree branch, wildly swinging out at it as he recovered from his roll. Barely managing to cleave a small bit of it off, the Stumpy that Abel Locke was fighting roared in rage as one of its many limbs was hacked off, though more in annoyance than pain. _

_Charging forward as fast as it could on the four stubby legs that its roots had combined to form, the Stumpy swung its many trunk-like branches at the tiny swordsman dwarfed beneath it whomping-willow style as it attempted to crush him again and again, but the warrior always managed to dodge its blows at the last second despite his obviously growing fatigue._

_And observing the fight from a nearby cliff edge, were the rest of his teammates, as well as his sensei, and Urahara's friend and rival, Jake Cyrus. Simply by watching how the fight was going, Tricia Telfair was already sighing, and had her palm placed exasperatedly on her forehead._

_It was hopeless – aside from that one jaw-dropping dive-bomb manoeuvre Abel had pulled out at the start of the fight, only for Stumpy to shrug it off thanks to its immense size, the swordsman had only managed to land a handful of glancing blows on the Stumpy, while it had already managed to smack him around numerous times, sending him flying across the rudimentary arena that they looked down upon._

_"He should just give up already," The newly-promoted Cleric murmured to herself as she continued watching Abel struggle futilely. "Cut his losses and pull out. At this rate, when he runs out of stamina, Stumpy is just going to toy with him before dealing the killing blow... not that Urahara-sensei would let it happen to begin with."_

_But Ethan, the freshly-promoted Hunter standing next to her, was watching his struggling teammate intently, observing his movements closely - seeing the underlying, burning determination, stubbornness, the refusal to give up despite the obvious fact that he was on the verge of failing his Second Job advancement test._

_"Locke..."_

_

* * *

_

**Three years earlier...**

_Abel sprinted through the woods of Ellinia as fast as he could, knowing that if he stopped, his opponent would surely catch up. When the sound of footsteps behind him faded, Abel slowly slid to a relieved halt, gasping for breath. That had been a close one..._

_Abruptly, his adversary suddenly dropped down in front of him from the branches above, and Abel cried out in surprise as Ethan leveled his bow at him, launching Double Shot after Double Shot, inexorably advancing forward a step with every shot he fired. Abel dodged the arrows as best he could, but multiple shots ricocheted off his plate armor as they impacted, each one knocking him further off balance._

_Eventually Abel took a stumbling step backwards so far that he left behind a huge opening, and Ethan took the chance to swing his bow with all his might, smacking Abel across the face and sending the swordsman flying backwards several feet, leaving him to land in an undignified heap upon the ground, at Tricia Telfair's feet._

_"No... I'm... not done yet..." Abel muttered weakly, struggling to push himself back up onto his feet, and above him, Tricia sighed, shaking her head wearily._

_"Abel... You really don't learn, do you? You can't beat Ethan." The magician chided her teammate, reaching out a hand to help Abel up. "Ethan's a genius, and he's got natural talent, unlike you."_

_Snapping his gaze upwards furiously to meet Tricia's eyes, Abel angrily slapped aside her hand, and pointed accusingly at Ethan._

_"A _genius!?_" The swordsman howled; his pride was already wounded, he did not need Tricia's pity either. "And just what exactly is a genius!? Even if I have no talent, I _will _surpass a genius with hard work! That's everything to me! It is my way of the warrior!"_

_"It's useless, Locke." Ethan suddenly said with such certainty that even Abel was given sudden pause. "No matter how much you try, there's no way you will ever be able to defeat me. This has already been decided."_

_In the face of his rival's certainty, Abel suddenly found his resolve wavering. What if what Ethan said was true? What if... no matter how hard he tried, hard work was useless after all...?_

_No! That couldn't be! He had come this far with nothing but the hard work that he had put into his training, there was no way it could be..._

_"That's not true!" Abel cried out in disbelief. "It... it can't..."_

_Unable to meet Ethan's unforgiving eyes any longer, Abel averted his gaze to the ground beneath him, his hands clenched in frustration._

_Damn it... what if the archer was right?_

_

* * *

_

**But... despite everything that you faced, you never gave up. No matter what obstacles were placed in your path, you never gave in to any of them, because you kept working hard, Abel...**

**

* * *

**

"_If I can't jump rope 1,200 times in a row, I'll have to kick the training log 2,000 times!"_ _Abel exclaimed as he hopped up and down over the skipping rope time and again, embarking upon his usual evening training regime, in his attempts to catch up with Ethan._

_"One thousand, one hundred and sixteen! One thousand, one hundred and seventeen! One thousand, one hundred and eighte-" **THWACK!**_

_With a surprised, pained cry as the skipping rope suddenly smacked itself against his left foot, snagging onto his toes and sending him flailing off balance, Abel could do nothing but topple forward in a tangle of his own limbs._

_As though to add insult to injury, the log in front of him served only as yet another hard object for his head to slam itself against – Abel's head smacked painfully into the hardened wood, earning yet another yelp of pain as another bump began to form, and the Swordsman toppled into an undignified heap on the ground._

_Cursing inwardly, Abel struggled to push himself back up onto his feet… but it was already too much to bear._

_Ethan's hannibal lecture had dug even deeper than Abel thought it had. Voices in his head began to whisper again that he was a failure, that he would never make it as a warrior – voices he thought he had shut out years ago. Voices that shouldn't have been getting under his skin the way they did… and yet, now they did._

_Abel just couldn't take it any longer. His arms gave out from underneath him, and the swordsman collapsed against the ground, tears of shame flowing freely from his eyes even as he struggled to choke back the sobs that came with them._

_What if… what if all this time, Ethan had been right all along?_

_What if he had come all this way, all for nothing?_

_Sniffing, Abel fought the despairing urge to simply curl up where he was and not move at all. No, he wouldn't show weakness like this! He… he couldn't…_

_"Abel! Taking a break already?" A familiar voice suddenly called out, and Abel's head shot up, his eyes so wide with shock that his tears abruptly stopped._

**_No, I can't let him see me like this… _**_Abel thought ashamedly to himself, and the swordsman quickly picked himself up, dusting himself off, and resumed kicking the log in front of him with whatever strength he could still muster._

_"Urahara-sensei…" The swordsman muttered noncommittally. "What do you want? If you want to talk to me about my failure in the last mission… *grunt* I've already apologized to you."_

_But Urahara did not have any reprimands for him. With his back turned to his sensei, Abel could not see the understanding smile upon Urahara's face._

_"Abel…" Urahara began slowly, the smile on his face never wavering. "It's true that you are different from Ethan. You might not be able to control your mana properly yet, neither are you a genius in hand-to-hand combat. But then, Abel… You too are a genius, that has to potential and the power to exceed Ethan."_

_"If you're trying to make me feel better out of pity…" Abel grunted as he continued kicking at the log, ignoring his sensei's words. "Please… just stop."_

_Chuckling inwardly, Urahara shook his head at his student's naiveté, and assured him, "No, I'm not saying this out of pity at all. Because you are…"_

_Hardly believing what he was saying, Abel stopped kicking the log for a moment, if only to hear what ridiculous reassurance his sensei had. So far nothing in the world had gone to prove him right – what reassurance could Urahara-sensei possibly provide?_

_"A genius of hard work!"_

_With a small gasp, Abel looked upwards, his eyes wide in surprise. Urahara-sensei believed in that too?_

_No… it was too good to be true._

_"Is… is that really so?" Abel asked, his voice wavering, his body shaking, his feet so unsteady that he grabbed the log in front of him to steady himself. "I've… I've come so far, all the way here believing that… If I trained two or three times harder then Ethan, I might be able to match up with him."_

_The words just came out unbidden, the burden that Abel had been carrying for so long within himself desperately needing to be unloaded. The swordsman's body shook so hard that he gripped the log so hard just not to fall over that his nails began to dig painfully into the wood, but that pain was nothing compared to the sharpening aching in his chest._

_"But lately… I've started to think that maybe… I really just can't match up with a real genius… Wondering if hard work really pays off…" Abel choked back another sob, even as the tears of shame threatened to flow again, until eventually, the dam burst. _

_"I wanted to find out! I challenged Ethan to a match so many times, and every single time the outcome has been the same! **I'm no match for him at all!"**_

**_"_**_Even during missions… my legs still shake. I think that no matter how hard I try… I just can't get any stronger than this! I'm scared of it, Urahara-sensei! I… I'm scared…**"**_

_"What should I do…?" It didn't come out as more than a pained whisper, Abel leaning his forehead ashamedly against the log in front of him. He had never felt more lost in his life. His very purpose of being here was being put in doubt, and if his way of life had been a sham all along… what did he have left to live for?_

_Watching his favourite student break down in front of him, Kisuke Urahara's smile faded, and looked upon the lost, broken boy before him, sighing internally._

_Looking up solemnly, the White Knight locked his gaze upon his student, and said the words that would change Abel's life._

**_"There is no use in working hard, if you do not believe in yourself!"_**

**

* * *

**

_"Abel, actually, you are very similar to me."_

_"The eyebrows?"_

_Laughing, Urahara looked at his student, sitting on the rock next to him beneath the night sky as the constellation of Orion gleamed upon them._

_"No, not just the eyebrows, Abel. To be honest, I was dropout when I was your age as well."_

_Abel stared at his sensei with eyes as wide as saucers, unable to believe that someone as brilliant as Urahara could have been a dropout when he was a First Jobber._

_"_You_, sensei!?"_

_Smiling, Urahara nodded. "But now, I am in the lead in my competitive matches against the elite genius, Jake Cyrus. It's because I worked hard!"_

_"Even if you can't use your mana properly, or can't use sword artes well, you still want to prove that you can be an excellent warrior, right? That's what your way of the warrior is!" Urahara told his student with an approving smile, and patted Abel on the back. "It's a good goal worth working hard for!"_

_Inside, Abel choked back another round of tears, but this time, tears of gratitude. All his life, everyone he met had told him that he was a dropout that would never make it. All his life, he had felt so alone, the only dropout of his batch. And here, right in front of him, his sensei was telling him that he had been a dropout too, and had still managed to become great in spite of it, and was telling him that _**he could do it too**.

_Not noticing the emotional reaction building up within his student, Urahara continued smiling, and raised a fist to emphasize his point._

_"So, Abel, all you have to do is believe in your path, and run through it!" The White Knight told his favourite student, looking up to the night sky, his smile never wavering._

_"Become a strong man, Abel! So that I can smile proudly upon you, when I watch you fight!"_

_Placing an affectionate hand on his student's head, Urahara ruffled the boy's hair with a wide smile. "Got that, Abel?"_

_At that moment, Abel made a solemn vow to himself – he would never, _ever_, disappoint his sensei, ever again._

_"Yes, sir!"_

**

* * *

**

Abel's lungs were burning by the time he burst through the wooden doors that led to the deck of the Flying Dutchman, and his legs were more than ready to give out from under him. The moment he burst through the doors and into the cool night air, Abel simply collapsed from sheer exhaustion, panting and gasping.

But there wasn't any time to rest – he could hear Latanica getting closer to catching up with every passing second, and groaning in pain as his tortured body protested, Abel forced himself back up onto his feet, Zabimaru feeling like a leaden weight in his hand.

The situation was getting worse by the second, and Abel felt his desperation growing. At the rate he was going, by the time Latanica reached here, he wouldn't even have any energy left to even pull out his trump card, much less use it…

Rolling himself onto his back, Abel found himself staring at the night sky, the constellation of Orion shining down upon him, and suddenly the White Knight's eyes widened, before being tightly shut, as the very same tears of gratitude that he had shed the night Urahara told him to believe in himself began flowing again.

_Thank you… Urahara-sensei…_

For from the stars above, Abel could sense that his old sensei was looking down upon him fighting, and was smiling proudly.

**

* * *

**

Cursing at the White Knight as he stomped down the final corridor leading upwards, Latanica swore that Abel would suffer for the indignity of making him stampede through the halls of his ship in a wild goose chase.

As the final door that led to the deck of the ship came into sight at last, Latanica almost breathed a sigh of relief, but that relief soon turned to anticipation – that warrior was going to _pay!_

The moment Latanica burst through the doors in an explosion of rage, he saw the White Knight standing motionless in the middle of the deck, blade raised in a blocking position, and his eyes locked and focused on Latanica.

_Hmph! _The fallen captain thought to himself as he sent yet another wave of hardened spirit particles flying towards Abel from his spirit shield. _Let him try what he will, he's still going to die here!_

So, then, imagine Latanica's surprise as Abel's body suddenly blurred, and then the White Knight appeared _ten feet_ away from where Latanica sent his attack, his stance still utterly focused and unflinching, and devoid of any trace of exhaustion.

_What the…? _Latanica frowned at this sudden development. _His movement… since when did it get back to normal?_

Smirking, Abel merely shifted his stance, and raised a hand towards Latanica, his movements no longer unsteady.

_Sensei is smiling for me…_ Abel thought confidently to himself; already, he could feel his strength returning, as though he had just injected himself one of Hiroshi's more potent Elixir hypos. _That alone is enough to revive me and make me stronger._

Gesturing towards Latanica in a_ bring it on _gesture, Abel began dodging smoothly and effortlessly again, even as the fallen captain sent blast after blast of hardened spirit particles and psychic force after him.

_Stronger…_

**

* * *

**

Far stronger!

_The smirk never left Abel's face even as the Stumpy before him roared in rage, sending several of its branches crashing towards him at the same time. The branches came, and yet despite the fact that he was supposedly worn out to the bone by now, Abel began to dodge the branches effortlessly, almost with preternatural efficiency, his focus sharper than a razor's edge._

_Urahara-sensei was smiling proudly upon him – he could not fail his Second Job advancement test here!_

_Up above, Tricia was looking on in amazement as she watched Abel's strength suddenly return as swiftly as a spring wind. "Wow… Abel's laughing, even when he's cornered? That smack on the head Stumpy gave him must have been harder than I thought."_

_Chuckling, Urahara turned to his other student. "No. This time, Abel is going to corner Stumpy."_

_Uncomprehending, Tricia looked up at her sensei, not understanding how such a sudden reversal could have been possible. "What? I don't get it. How can he reverse the battle so quickly? Stumpy's absolutely dominating him out there."_

_Urahara's explanation was simple; with a smile, he merely had one thing to say with a confident smile._

_"The Lotus of Perion blooms twice."_

_"Blooms twice…?" Tricia frowned at the familiar phrase. "Wait, Abel once said that to me too!"_

_Eyes widening in realization, Tricia remembered the time when she had been ambushed by a horde of green mushrooms in Ellinia, and while Ethan had been too far away to help, Abel had suddenly barged in with his sub-par sword techniques, and despite being too weak to take on green mushrooms, he had single-handedly held back the horde while buying time for Tricia to recover._

_Abel had been beaten to nearly an inch of his life, and only Urahara's sudden intervention had prevented him from being killed. When Tricia had asked him if he was all right, Abel had simply given her a smile, and told her not to worry – the phrase that he had uttered still rang in her head even to this day._

"It's all right, Tricia. The Lotus of Perion blooms twice. The next time something like this happens again… I promise that I will be a stronger man."

_Standing next to Tricia, Jake Cyrus listened in growing consternation, but when he heard that not only Urahara, but _Abel too_ knew of the Lotus of Perion, he could keep silent no longer._

_Turning towards Urahara, Jake exclaimed in disbelief, "That can't be, Urahara! Did you…!?"_

_Smirking unashamedly, Urahara turned back to the arena, his eyes intently watching Abel fight Stumpy. "Yes, Jake. It is just as you suspect."_

_Eyes narrowing behind his visor, Jake looked upon his colleague in disapproval. "So, then, that boy, a mere First Jobber, is capable of opening the _Hachimon_, and using _Ura Renge?"

_Listening intently, Ethan continued to feign ignorance as he pretended to watch the fight. _Ura Renge…?

_Urahara nodded. "That's correct."_

_The crusader placed a hand on his forehead, breathing out in dread._

_"What a disaster…" Jake was silent for a second, and then he looked again at the White Knight, his eyes grim._

_"Urahara, how many gates is that boy capable of opening?"_

_It was a moment before Urahara answered, his eyes closing solemnly. "Five."_

_Tricia looked between the two adults in puzzlement, understanding about as much as she would if they had been talking about Fourth Jobber techniques. "Just what is this _Hachimon_ and _Ura Renge_ thing you're talking about?"_

_The answer came from her sensei – no doubt the one who had taught whatever it was to Abel._

_"The _Hachimon, _also known as the Eight Celestial Gates," Urahara explained. "It is a preparation by way of taking limiters off one's body, in order to be able to use _Ura Renge, _the Reverse Lotus."_

_"Taking off…. limiters?" Tricia's eyes were wide in wonder, and she took in every word that her sensei said, not wanting to miss a single detail._

_"That's right," Jake answered the Cleric, turning to watch the fight between the giant tree and the fledgling swordsman. It was discreet enough for Tricia to miss it, however Urahara had seen it a million times, and he spotted it the moment Jake discreetly formed the ubiquitous seal of the Tiger._

_Immediately, the crusader's eyes flickered from their normal mahogany brown to a dark crimson, and his pupils became surrounded by the three tomoes of a fully matured Sharingan._

_"Mana is circulated around our body by a circulatory system, much like our blood – however it operates on a much more spiritual level." James' father continued explaining, his sharpened eyes now never leaving the swordsman fighting in the arena below him._

_"Inside this mana circulatory system, there are gates located in certain parts of the body: the _Kaimon _(Open Gate), _Kyuumon _(Energy Gate),_ Seimon _(Life Gate)_, Shomon _(Wound Gate),_ Tomon _(Limit Gate),_ Keimon _(View Gate), _Kyoumon _(Insanity Gate),_ _and the _Shimon _(Death Gate). These are the eight places where mana in our body is the most concentrated at; also known as the Eight Celestial Gates."_

_"These eight gates constantly control the flow of mana inside your body – they regulate the body's functions, making it much weaker, but also keeping it from expiring to soon. But the Lotus unfastens these controls with brute force, and grants the user more than ten times more power with every gate forced open. That is the source of its power."_

_Nodding, Urahara continued his colleague's explanation._

_"_Omote Renge, _the Front Lotus, is a technique that opens the first gate, the Gate of Opening, located inside the brain. It unfastens our brain's control on the usage of our physical strength, and allows a person to use his muscles at their absolute limits."_

_Gasping in realization, Tricia realized what was that spectacular dive-bomb manoeuvre that Abel had executed on Stumpy earlier on in the fight – Abel had been using his muscles at their limit simply by executing that move, no wonder he had exhausted himself so early into the fight!_

_Wait, but then, if that was the case…_

_"Then… what about _Ura Renge_?" Tricia asked in trepidation, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer._

_"It opens the second gate, the Gate of Energy, also located in our brain, and grants one a second wind, revitalising the body with extra mana. And then, after opening the third gate, the Gate of Life, the first of four gates located on our spinal cord, the Reverse Lotus is carried out."_

_"No way…" Tricia breathed out in disbelief and horror. "But the Front Lotus alone already wears his body out so much. He got so exhausted even after using it only once on Stumpy! If he tries to do anything even more straining than that…!"_

_"You're right, Tricia," Jake confirmed. "By opening all the Eight Gates, a person would be able to temporarily gain powers to rival even that of the Four Wise Men combined. But in doing so, that person… **will die."**_

_Tricia gasped in horror, her hand flying to her mouth. No way… that couldn't be!_

_Rounding sternly upon Urahara, Jake fixed his crimson gaze on his colleague._

_"I have no intention of prying into what that boy is to you," Jake said gravely. "And I'm not going to tell you to leave personal matters out of this either… But there's such a thing as a limit! I've lost faith in you, Urahara!"_

_Looking at her sensei as Jake's words hit him like well-aimed arrows, Tricia gasped, as she beheld her normally jovial sensei looking more furious than he had ever appeared before. His eyes had narrowed, and he was staring right at Jake, meeting the crusader's eyes unflinchingly, his hands clenched tightly into fists._

_"And just what… do _you… _know about _him_?" Urahara all but shouted. "That boy has something important to him that he must protect and prove to everyone, even if it means his own death!"_

_Closing his eyes, the White Knight momentarily recalled the words his student had once so passionately spoken, words that Urahara would never forget._

Even though I can't control my mana properly and can only use hand-to-hand combat techniques, I want to prove that I can still be an excellent warrior! That's everything to me!

_"That is why I wanted to make him into a man who could hold on to those words!" Urahara explained, looking fondly down upon his student inside the arena. "That is all."_

**

* * *

**

_"Abel, today I'm going to be teaching you a new, secret technique." Urahara told his student standing attentively in front of him, earning a series of excited shouts from Abel and causing the young swordsman to begin jumping for joy._

_"Abel, listen, this move is going to be your ace in the hole… DAMN IT ABEL, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!?" A vein temporarily popped in Urahara's forehead as he lost his patience for an instant, and the swordsman instantly quieted down._

_"Y-yes, sir!" Abel apologized profusely, now listening in rapt attention. "Sorry!"_

_"Now let me warn you," Urahara said seriously. "This move is even more forbidden than the Front Lotus. And this move, it is going to be your most special technique."_

_"Huh?" Abel's eyes widened in confusion at his sensei's words. More forbidden than the Lotus? "…Special?"_

_Urahara nodded. "But then, if you ever want to use this technique, there is one strict condition that it must be under. And that is…"_

**

* * *

**

Catching his breath and forcing his panting under control, Abel closed his eyes and sheathed Zabimaru, the whip-blade reverting to its sealed form of the Dragon Sword, and the White Knight raised both of his arms, crossed in front of him, fingers curled inwards while his palms faced outwards.

_That is…_

Almost immediately, a shimmering pillar of translucent energy surrounded him, and Latanica's eyes widened in surprise.

_What the…!?_

"I don't know what you're trying to do, warrior," Latanica growled as he narrowed his eyes and formed the seal of the Tiger again. "But you are going to be finished here."

"Yes, you're right." Abel's answer was not one Latanica had expected, and the fallen captain raised an eyebrow in suspicion. _Hmm? What is he up to?_

"Either way, this next move is going to end everything." Closing his eyes, Abel withdrew his consciousness into his body, and reached inside as deep as he could to draw out the power he needed. As he did so, the faces of his comrades flitted through his head, and with every face he saw, he dove deeper and deeper.

_Ethan… Logan… and…_

Briefly, the image of James Price Cyrus flickered through Abel's mind's eye, and Abel's curled fingers clenched into determined fists.

_I… I cannot be the only one who loses here!_

From up above, Abel could feel his sensei's proud approval.

_Urahara-sensei, please acknowledge this! Now is the time…_

The shimmering aura surrounding Abel had grown to such strength that the floorboards he was standing on had actually begun to splinter, the broken fragments of the planks rising up in a powerful updraft that the aura seemed to be generating. Even Abel's hair was blown upwards by the aura, his dark locks pointing upwards and turning rigid. Latanica could literally _feel_ the sheer amount of mana pouring out of the warrior in ungodly surges, rising off of Abel's body in tangible, crimson wisps.

In a sudden burst of sheer power, Abel's aura _exploded,_ the White Knight straightening his back, arms thrusting out to his sides, and showing to Latanica the sheer amount of veins in his temples that were bulging out from the stress.

**_To abide by, and protect my way of the warrior!_** Abel stated ardently to himself the condition Urahara-sensei had given him, and from inside himself, Abel Wade Wilson Locke welcomed the terrifying, monstrous torrent of power that poured out from his innermost being with wide, open arms.

**_"Dai san, Seimon… Kai!"_**_ [Third Gate, Life Gate… Open!]_

_"**Kaio-ken…** **x20!!!"**_

* * *

_A/N: I spent a lot of effort on this pride and joy of a chapter, so if you would be so kind, leave a review behind, would you kindly?  
_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own MapleStory, or any other references or shoutouts to other series that appear in this story. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of characters or events to real-life persons or events is purely coincidental.

* * *

A/N: Well, this is going to be the last chapter of Ghost Ship. The next episode, WEAPON X, is going to take on quite a different feel from this due to the setting being in Omega Sector, so if you've been loving Abel's renditions so far, this is going to be the last you'll be seeing of him... for now! In the meantime, enjoy the final chapter of Ghost Ship!

* * *

**Marauder's HQ**

The bodies were beginning to stack up in piles of incredulous proportions, but there was no denying how fatigued the three Marauders were growing. Hiroshi and Ethan bore wicked cuts and bruises all over their bodies where the Husks' weapons had found their mark, and James' plate armour had dents and holes in more places than they could count.

And yet, still, no matter how many Husks they killed, there always seemed to be three times as many more waiting to take their place.

Raising Zangetsu in a blocking stance as another Husk wielding a Blue Screamer lunged at him, James suddenly saw an opening so wide that he could scarcely believe the undead crusader would actually make such an amateurish mistake.

Pouncing upon the chance, James twisted around and _inside_ the Husk's guard, and plunged Zangetsu through the undead crusader's chest in a Power Strike, ripping it out in a shower of bone fragments and blackened blood.

_Wait a sec…_ James realized. _How come I've never seen Hiroshi or Ethan ever pulling any of this off?_

Indeed, the past few dozen Husks had been like that – their movements had become so predictable, so amateurish, that the crusader was shocked they were even capable of making such mistakes, and yet somehow the Outlaw and Ranger were failing to capitalize upon those mistakes.

It just didn't match up to the crusader – however, he hardly had time to ponder over it as yet another Husk, this time grasping a Liu Bei dagger, charged him, and yet again James flawlessly predicted his opponent's movements, spinning around the Husk's strike and slashing its back open with a Panic as it stumbled past him.

On the other side of the workshop however, Hiroshi was far from having an easy time. Another Husk leapt at him, gibbering madly, and the Outlaw knocked it backwards with a forceful kick to the groin, following up with another boot to its chest before finishing it off with a shot from one of his Peacemaker revolvers, blowing a fist-sized hole in its abdomen.

But as he finished off that one Husk, yet another leapt upon his back, attempting to sink its teeth into his neck. Growling in defiance, Hiroshi slammed his elbow backwards and into the Husk's temple an instant before its fangs would have severed his carotid artery. The blow dislodged its grip for just a split second, just long enough for him to fling it to the ground in front of him in a Jujitsu throw.

The Husk screamed madly up at him even form its prone position on the floor, and Hiroshi didn't hesitate to put it out of its misery by firing a triple tap with Burst Fire – the first two bullets went straight through its chain link and soul sleep, and the last one went through its head to make sure it stayed dead.

Cursing as he realized that there was no way they would be able to win the way they were fighting now, Hiroshi took a quick glance at a concealed safe that lay hidden in a corner of the workshop, and winced to himself.

_Damn it… I was hoping to save that for later, but we don't have a choice now!_

With a desperate shout, Hiroshi loaded up his Peacemakers with Blaze Capsules, and charged forward, screaming, "Flamethrower!"

The custom-made incendiary ammunition worked wonders against the undead Husks – after all, when something seemed too tough to take down by conventional means, Hiroshi always next resorted to killing it with fire. The Husks' decaying bodies were almost instantly disintegrated under the million-degrees heat generated by the white phosphorus stored inside his incendiary rounds, and they all ended up falling to the ground in pieces regardless of where Hiroshi hit them.

His stream of fire clearing the way to the safe, Hiroshi dashed forward before the horde could move to block his path again. A single Husk attempted to get in his way, and Hiroshi simply loaded up another Blaze Capsule into his Peacemaker and blew the zombie's head to pieces with a blast of fire.

Kicking the toppling corpse out of the way, Hiroshi finally arrived at the safe, and in a flash his fingers were working frantically to load up Glace Capsules into his revolvers. Slamming a speedloader full of six Glace Capsules into his right Peacemaker, Hiroshi aimed it at the safe's handle, and snapped off all six Ice Splitter shots as quickly as he could, emptying the chambers and dumping out the expended capsules once he was done.

A quick elbow smash reduced the now-frozen safe door into a million shards of shattered ice, and Hiroshi frantically looked inside, shoving his hand into the safe and pulling out what it had hidden up till now.

James was in the middle of weaving through a tangled web of blows from three Husks at once, artfully dodging blows that by all rights he _shouldn't_ have been able to see coming in the first place, when he suddenly heard Hiroshi call his name.

Looking over in the Outlaw's direction, James realized that Hiroshi was holding on to a metal gauntlet that glowed from within with a bright, azure light, the same light emitted from the veins of power that ran around it – it looked like yet another Devil Buster, except that the veins of power in this one were glowing even more intensely than the one he had used in Zipangu.

"James! Catch!"

In a two-handed long-distance pass that would have made Michael Jordan proud, Hiroshi threw the new prototype gauntlet he had developed in succession to the Devil Buster, the _Devil Bringer,_ towards the crusader, but the moment his throw went flying, Hiroshi's face fell.

_Shit, that throw's totally off-centre_ – _there's no way James will be able to catch that!_

But the crusader defied all of Hiroshi's expectations by leaping forward to actually _meet_ the gauntlet in mid-flight. Four Husks leapt after him in pursuit, their weapons thrusting, and James simply _twisted_ in mid-air, flawlessly avoiding every single one of their strikes.

Displaying inhuman agility that Hiroshi had never witnessed before in his life, James actually shifted himself around until he was right smack in the middle of the group pursuing him, and _used them as jumping platforms to propel himself to the gauntlet._

The Outlaw could only gape in disbelief as James' left hand sailed perfectly into the waiting Devil Bringer, instantly activating the receptive magical energies that powered it, and his mouth remained ajar even as James rolled to a stop in front of him, the crusader's eyes wide open, and panting sharply as though he had just gotten off the roller coaster ride of his life.

Looking at James' widely opened eyes, Hiroshi realized with a start where the crusader's sudden display of inhuman acrobatics had come from – it had remained there for just an instant, right before the crusader's eyes flickered back to their normal mahogany brown.

"James, your eyes-"

"No time, Hiroshi!" James suddenly cut the Outlaw off. "Get down!"

Eyes widening as he realized that James was in fact focused on an object coming in from _behind _him, Hiroshi immediately took the cue and flattened himself against the floor.

Almost instantly a giant, spinning blade, spinning so rapidly it almost looked like a buzzsaw, streaked over Hiroshi's head, passing by so close that the Outlaw could _feel _the blades spinning right over his head, inches from shearing his neck in half.

With a relieved gasp, Hiroshi collapsed against the floor, and James immediately raised Zangetsu in front of him, blocking the spinning blade's advance with a defiant scream, his arms straining to keep it from overpowering him.

With a shout of might, James parried aside with all his strength, and sent the spinning blade flying wide to the side where it embedded itself to a stop in the workshop's wall – it was there that James realized in awe that it was a blade which size and length rivalled Zangetsu's own.

_Holy shit… _The crusader thought to himself in disbelief. _I just parried a blade that huge?_

Before the crusader realized it, all of a sudden another Husk appeared, standing atop the blade's handle, and the moment he felt his reiatsu enter his perception, James instantly sensed that this newcomer was definitely _more_ than just the average Husk.

"Hiroshi… stay down, " James quietly instructed the Outlaw, subtly taking note of the dying sounds of combat further away from him – a quick glance told him that for some reason the Husks had stopped attacking, and Ethan was taking the opportunity to rest, the ranger panting heavily in exhaustion and bleeding from several cuts and scratches while he dug into his belt for some health and mana hypos.

Cautiously approaching the imposing figure standing atop the sword, its back to him, James kept Zangetsu lowered but in a ready stance, prepared to intercept any attack that may come his way. When the figure finally began to turn to face him, the crusader's eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip on his Soul Slayer.

"I get the feeling that you're more than just the average mook here," James called out warily, watching the figure as closely as he could. "So I'll hazard a guess and say that you must be the leader of this raid."

Unexpectedly displaying a level of sentience that James had not anticipated, the figure actually started laughing, and turned fully to face James – it was then the crusader realized that the figure was in fact a lot more human than an average Husk. Its human features and hair were all still intact and well-defined, as was almost all of its flesh, though the hue of its skin was a deathly pallor, and its eyes were an infernal red nearly matching up with the crimson of James' Sharingan.

"Yes, indeed I am." The figure responded, the lower half of its face covered in a mask of bandages, and James immediately flinched, dropping further into a defensive stance with Zangetsu.

"You may call me Zabuza Momochi, a Scion of Ergoth's glorious empire, and one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist." The figure proclaimed, and abruptly it grabbed the handle of its giant sword, kicking it out of the wall – within the blink of an eye, Zabuza disappeared from sight, and reappeared a few yards before James with his massive sword held in a reverse-grip stance behind him, followed by the very same signature swishing sound that always followed in James' wake whenever he used _Shunpo_.

"Seven Swordsmen of the Mist?" Ethan asked Hiroshi quietly, the Ranger having snuck quietly over to the Outlaw's side during the lull in battle, taking the opportunity to pop several of Hiroshi's potion-stimpaks to revitalise himself. As Ethan injected himself with the contents of a distilled Power Elixir hypo, Hiroshi began to explain.

"Yeah, you heard him right. Back in the Sharenian Empire there were actually five nation-states, but now the only nation-state that actually has remains we can still study is the one located in Perion, which I believe to be the Land of Lightning. In truth, the Sharenian Empire used to span the whole of Victoria Island, composed of the feudal provinces of Fire, Earth, Wind, Water, and Lightning."

"The province, or **Land of Fire**, had a hidden village of mercenaries and assassins, known as _Konohagakure_, the **Village Hidden Amongst the Leaves**, that was ruled over by an individual known as the _Hokage_, or **Fire Shadow**." Hiroshi elaborated. "The other Lands, the **Lands of Earth**, **Wind**, **Water**, and **Lightning**, also had their own hidden villages; the **Village Hidden Amongst the Rocks**, _Iwagakure,_ in the **Land of Earth** was ruled over by the _Tsuchikage, _the **Earth Shadow**. The _Kazekage_, **Wind Shadow**, ruled over _Sunagakure_, the **Village Hidden Amongst the Sand** in the **Land of Wind**, the _Mizukage,_ **Water Shadow**, ruled over _Kirigakure_, the **Village Hidden in the Mist** in the **Land of Water**, and the _Raikage,_ **Lightning Shadow**, ruled over _Kumogakure_, the **Village Hidden in the Clouds** in the **Land of Lightning**. I've heard rumors that the Kages in fact still exist, though I haven't been able to prove any of them. But that's besides the point."

Gesturing towards Zabuza and his massive blade, Hiroshi continued, "When Ergoth murdered Sharen the Third and took over his empire, he left most of the empire's infrastructure intact. The feudal lords and citizens of each province swore fealty to him in exchange for necromantic powers unlike anything seen on Bera, and the Hidden Village of the Mist in the Land of Water happened to have a small, elite group of swordsmen occupying their top tier of warriors, called the **Seven Swordsmen of the Mist**."

"Many of the Swordsmen of the Mist had actually rebelled against Ergoth's rule, hoping to be able to defeat him, but they were betrayed from within by three of their number, dooming the remaining four to defeat and having their names being cast from history, while the remaining three were hailed in Ergoth's new empire as champions – _Hozuki Suigetsu, Hoshigake Kisame… _and _Momochi Zabuza_."

"Shit…" Ethan cursed as he came to a realization. "So that means that James is going up against one of Ergoth's elite?"

When Hiroshi nodded, the Ranger stiffened, and immediately made to charge forward. "The hell with it, if it's an elite, he's gonna need all the help he can get! James!"

But to the ranger's shock, James actually shot a hand out to stop Ethan.

"Sorry, Ethan, but you're actually going to be in the way. Everyone… stay back. This guy is way different than anything we've ever fought before. I can feel it."

James saw the bandages covering Zabuza's face shift slightly, almost as though the Scion was grinning in anticipation. "Well, if he's going to be my opponent …" The crusader raised his left hand to cover his eyes horizontally, and his fingers hooking into claws.

"There's no way I can win like this."

"I'm guessing that you're James Price Cyrus, Sharingan user of the Marauders, and son of Jake Giles Cyrus." Zabuza stated, and James flinched, his eyes narrowing. _What the- How the hell does he know about my father…? Or my Sharingan, for that matter?_

"Sorry," The Scion said, "But your pirate friend over there is developing a suit of armour that I've been tasked to destroy. I'm afraid you don't have a say in this matter."

Immediately, Hiroshi blanched, the Outlaw's face turning white. Damnit, it was supposed to have been a classified project! How in the world did Ergoth manage to find out about it?

"Guys…" James suddenly called out. "Form the swastika formation. Protect whatever it is Hiroshi is working on. Whatever you do, don't interfere with the battle."

In a slow, painstaking movement, James closed his eyes, and drew his hand across them, fingers passing over his eyelids, and then…

"…Fight me!" James declared to Zabuza, and his eyes snapped open, revealing in them _the three tomoes of a_ _fully matured Sharingan_.

"Ho…" Zabuza positively whistled in delight. "I'm honoured to be able to actually see that Sharingan I've always heard about from Lord Ergoth. He said that it has the ability to see through all sorts of physical techniques and magical artes, and cancel out their effects, but that wasn't all. The scariest part of the Sharingan is its ability to instantly understand how an opponent's technique works, and then copy it perfectly…"

Behind Zabuza's mask of bandages, the Scion's lips peeled back in a savage grin, revealing rows of sharpened, shark-like teeth, and he raised a hand, forming the seal of the Tiger, with his index and middle fingers outstretched together while the rest of his fingers clenched into his fist.

"In the Hidden Mist's assassination squad, your information was listed in the bingo book that Lord Ergoth gave me, asking for your capture. It also noted _this _under your name: The man who has copied over a thousand other techniques with his Sharingan**. The copy-warrior: James Cyrus**."

As Zabuza spoke, a fine, white mist began to form inside Hiroshi's workshop, until by the time the Scion had finished speaking, James could barely see six feet in front of him. Inexplicably, water began to form at his feet as well, until the crusader was standing in an ankle-deep flood, with the water level slowly but steadily rising.

"Ahh, goddamnit!" Hiroshi lamented at the flood. "My blueprints! It's gonna take me ages to transfer the plans back to paper hard copies again!"

"You still have soft-copy backups in our hardened computer systems, Hiroshi," Ethan reminded the pirate tartly. "Stop complaining."

"Let's just cut the chit-chat here," Zabuza suddenly said, swinging his gigantic blade casually to rest over his shoulder. "I have to destroy that suit of armour right away."

Hiroshi's eyes widened in horror, and immediately he and Ethan appeared right next to the still half-assembled suit that the Outlaw had been working on, their weapons drawn and ready, Hiroshi brandishing both his Peacemakers, while Ethan grasped two _Seele Schneiders_, one in each hand.

In front of them, James held his ground, grasping Zangetsu steadily while watching Zabuza as closely as he could despite the mist pervading the workshop.

"But then," The Scion said, rotating one of his shoulders experimentally, as though warming up. "It looks like I'll have to defeat you first, James."

Without warning the Scion suddenly rose up, above the now shin-deep flood in the workshop, and suddenly Zabuza was standing atop the water, as though its surface had turned as hard and consistent as concrete.

Raising his left hand as well in another seal of the Tiger, Zabuza straightened his left arm until it was pointing directly upwards, and he maintained his right hand's seal in front of his chest – in reponse, the water around him suddenly came alive, droplets and vapour swirling around him in a miniature twister as James sensed the mana fields around the Scion flare with activity.

_He's embedding a lot of his spiritual energy into the water… _The crusader realized, tightening his grip on Zangetsu and shifting unsteadily. As Zabuza continued casting whatever spell he was working on, James noticed the mist around the workshop growing thicker and thicker, and the flood had risen until it reached his knees.

"_Ninpo: Kirigakure no Jutsu." [Ninja Art: Hidden Mist Technique]_ James heard Zabuza mutter, and suddenly the mist around the Scion grew in thickness so much that the crusader could not even see through it at all, as Zabuza faded completely from sight.

"Shit…" Hiroshi cursed under his breath. "A _Jutsu_? That's the same kind of secret technique that Juliana uses…"

"Hiroshi," Ethan suddenly said. "Is there anything you know about him? You certainly seem very familiar with Sharenian history."

The Japanese Outlaw nodded, and without losing his alertness, began to explain. "Momochi Zabuza. Like I said, he was one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, and was part of the Hidden Village of the Mist's assassination squad, most well known for his silent killing techniques. Just as the name implies, it's a technique that's carried out in a flash, and in absolute silence. Any victim of the technique would probably be dead before they even realized it."

James cursed as Hiroshi let out that little piece of information. "I can't use my Sharingan to its fullest potential in this mist, Hiroshi. His mana signature is embedded all over in this mist, so I can't see or sense him – don't let your guard down."

The three Marauders shifted around uneasily, warily watching the mist for any sign that Zabuza might be emerging, but all they saw were the foggy, unmoving outlines of the remaining Husks, which for some reason had stopped attacking the moment Zabuza had appeared – perhaps the Scion wanted to finish them off himself instead.

Abruptly, the mist began to thicken, so much that they could hardly even see three feet in front of them, and Hiroshi began to lose sight of James standing in front of them.

"Shit- James!" Hiroshi called out, but the crusader had already disappeared into the thickening mist, despite the fact that neither of them had even taken a step.

_"The eight points…" _Zabuza's voice suddenly floated out of the mist towards them, and Ethan flinched in surprise, tightening his hold on his _Seele Schneiders_.

_"The larynx, spine, collarbone, lungs, liver, jugular vein, kidneys, and heart. Now… which vital organ do you want to get struck in?"_

Surrounded on all sides by an impenetrable fog, Hiroshi grit his teeth, and fought down the fear that threatened to rise up inside of him, gripping onto the handles of his Peacemakers until his knuckles turned white. If Zabuza was indeed going to use his silent killing techniques… by God, the Outlaw wasn't going down without a fight.

Eyes narrowing as he realized what Zabuza was about to do, James realized that he had but seconds to act – quickly raising both his hands and forming the seal of the Ram, a seal that only differed slightly in shape to the seal of the Tiger, James brought out all of the extra mana he could spare and dispersed it from his body in forceful currents, pushing against the oppressive spiritual pressure of Zabuza… and completely dispersing the mist that hung over the workshop.

Breathing a sigh of relief as the mist cleared up, Ethan turned to look at James, whose back was still turned to the ranger, his stance unflinchingly focused upon the flooded workshop before him… where there was still no sign of Zabuza.

_Oh, shit! _Ethan realized as he saw that despite his cover of mist having been blown – literally – the Scion was still nowhere to be seen. He could have been anywhere; above them, behind him, ready to deliver a killing blow that he would neither see nor hear coming…

And the razor sharp focus that Ethan could sense in James… the ice-cold, killing intent that the crusader was radiating, it was almost paralyzing. The ranger had never experienced such a feeling emanating from James before – it was petrifying.

_What an intense thirst for blood…_ Ethan thought to himself, cold sweat beading on his forehead as he realized just how dire the situation was. _Just a single breath or eye movement can be picked up, and that will be enough to get me killed… If I stay here any longer than an hour, I'm going to lose my mind! The murderous intent of these two clashing with each other… The feeling that my life is entirely in the hands of another…_

The ranger's hand quivered, and just for a split second, he contemplated reversing the grip on one of his _Seele Schneiders_.

_No! I'd rather kill myself to escape this feeling!_

"… Ethan." James' steady voice suddenly interrupted the ranger's thoughts, and Ethan's head shot up to look at the crusader, horrified at what he had just considered doing.

"Relax. I'll protect the two of you with my life." The crusader said evenly, his stance confident and unfettered. James turned around to face him, and Ethan saw that the crusader was smiling knowingly.

"I'm not about to let anyone else important to me die."

_"I don't know about that…"_ Zabuza's voice floated out in response, and it took Ethan a moment to realize, to his spine-chilling horror, that the Scion was _right behind him_.

"It's over." Zabuza declared, and Ethan spun around, diving away at the same time – he had to put as much distance as he could between the Scion and him before he struck!

But despite how quickly the ranger had reacted, James was even faster. Even before Ethan had started to move, James had somehow already spun on his heel, his crimson gaze fixed upon Zabuza, Sharingan eyes wide open and utterly focused.

A single step, and suddenly James was in front of the Scion, Zangetsu's blade embedded in his gut, earning a cry of pained surprise from Zabuza.

The familiar sound of dripping blood soon followed… or at least Ethan thought it was blood, as he heard the dripping sound of liquids joining the flood… until he looked down and realized, to his shock, that it was not blood, but _water_, that Zabuza's body was bleeding.

Then the rest of the Scion's body liquefied, and collapsed at James' feet in a deluge of water, joining the flood that was beginning to reach his thighs.

His eyes wide open in horror as he realized what had just happened, Ethan pointed a finger to the crusader and shouted, "James! Behind you!"

Starting in shock as he heard Ethan's warning, James spun around, just in time to see Zabuza crouched behind him, his massive blade raised and poised to strike the killing blow.

"_DIE!" _The Scion screamed in bloodlust, and he swung his massive blade in James' direction so swiftly that the crusader didn't even have time to react. The blow connected with James' midsection, and with the hefty weight of the blade, combined with Zabuza's inhuman strength, it bit right through the crusader's plate armour… and proceeded to cleave right through the rest of James' abdomen, bifurcating the crusader at the waist. For the longest, most horrified moment of his life, Ethan watched in a silent scream as his best friend was cut in half…

And then two separated halves of the crusader's body turned to water, droplets dissipating into the air.

Eyes wide open in astonishment, Zabuza stared at the spot where the crusader's body had suddenly disintegrated into water – just like how his own body had done so mere moments before.

_The Water Clone Technique!_ The Scion thought frantically to himself. _Did he…!_

But before Zabuza could even budge a muscle, he felt a steel blade press itself against his pulmonary artery, and he immediately knew that he had been suckered.

"Don't move!" James ordered darkly as he held Zangetsu in a reversed grip against the Scion's neck, ready to slice his throat open if he budged so much as an inch.

The two combatants stood in a Mexican standoff, Zabuza standing completely motionless while James kept his Soul Slayer's blade levelled against the Scion's throat. Hiroshi and Ethan simply stared at the duelling duo, jaws open in awe at the mindscrew that had just transpired.

"Wha… what in the living fuck just happened?" Hiroshi stuttered out in disbelief, and all Ethan could utter was a subdued, awed "Whoa."

But Zabuza was merely grinning arrogantly, almost as though James had acted exactly how he had counted on the crusader doing so.

"Hmph!" The Scion scoffed, and behind his mask of bandages, his rows of shark-like teeth revealed themselves again in a macabre grin. "A cunning plan. When I used the Hidden Mist Technique in conjunction with the Water Clone Technique, you copied the techniques as well, and replaced yourself with a clone, while the real you used the mist as cover to hide and observe my movements. Very shrewd, son of Jake Cyrus… But you're not going to defeat me if you merely imitate my techniques indiscriminately."

It was a split-second later that James realized that Zabuza's voice was coming from both in front and _behind_ him.

Spinning around, horrified, as he realized that the Zabuza standing in front of him was a copy as well, James turned on his heel, desperate to get the real Zabuza back into his sights, as the fake Scion in front of him collapsed in yet another deluge of water.

But for all his speed, for this once, the crusader was too slow. Zabuza's boot suddenly met with his gut in a high-speed impact, and James exhaled explosively as the wind was violently knocked out of him, the Scion's kick bruising several ribs at the same time.

The crusader came to a rough landing on the other side of the flooded workshop, sending water flying everywhere as he ploughed into the flood again, and he immediately surfaced, his movements unusually sluggish.

"What the…" James muttered to himself as he struggled to pull himself back onto his feet. _The water feels strangely heavy…_

There was a brief flicker of reiatsu from behind him, and James half-turned around in horror to realize that Zabuza was right next to him.

"Too slow, warrior," The Scion remarked with a smirk obvious in his voice. "_Suirō no Jutsu!" [Water Prison Technique!]_

Before the crusader could react, the very waters around him came alive with movement, and completely enveloped him in a perfect sphere that left no openings.

Cursing as he realized that there was no space for him to wield Zangetsu's massive blade, James swiftly reared back the Devil Bringer on his left hand and, with a mighty shout, hurled his fist at the imprisoning water wall with all his might – he might as well have been trying to beat down a steel wall with his bare hands. The blow left hardly even a mark.

"Shit!" James swore. _I thought I might be able to use the water as cover… I guess that wasn't such a good idea after all! _

"Forget it, Cyrus!" Zabuza exclaimed derisively. "My Water Prison Technique is unsurpassed in its strength – you won't be breaking out of this anytime soon! You really give me a hard time when you're moving around, but now, I can just finish you off on my own later. Now, to deal with these two…"

Cursing as he realized what Zabuza had planned, James turned to his two compatriots and shouted, "Ethan! Hiroshi! Get out of here! There's no way you'll be able to win against him! Take Hiroshi's project and go! Don't worry about me, I'll break out somehow!"

Gritting his teeth, Ethan silently but vehemently disagreed, even as the Husks surrounding them began to move again, slowly shuffling towards them in an unmistakably hostile movement. _No way in hell, James… _That_ option was no longer open to us the moment you got captured! There's no way we're going to leave you here trapped like this – that's exactly what Ergoth is aiming for, your capture! And if he succeeds, not even Hiroshi's project is going to help us get you and Tricia back!_

From the Outlaw's determined stance next to him, Ethan could tell that Hiroshi shared his sentiments, and that even while surrounded and outnumbered, they were both ready to do _whatever_ it took to get James back.

"Hiroshi… Is that suit functionally ready?" Ethan asked quietly as he dispersed both of his _Seele Schneiders_, and instead enveloped both his hands in their azure, blue-white glow, sheathing them with its residual mana.

"Just a few of the systems…" Hiroshi muttered hesitantly, before a comprehending grin began to spread over his face. "But perhaps just enough to give us an edge. Buy me thirty seconds, Ethan – it'll be just enough for me to put it on and activate it!"

"All right then!" Ethan growled as the Husks surrounding them began to crouch, preparing to lunge. "I guess with the workshop flooded, I won't have to worry about collateral damage by using this technique anymore!"

Then as the Husks began to lunge at them, screaming, the ranger swept his leg around, spinning around in a circle, sending water flying in all directions, and dropped into the Gentle Fist stance, a Yin Yang symbol forming beneath him as the ranger's Byakugan flared to life from behind his lidded eyes.

_"Hakke: Hyaku Nijyuu Hachi Shō!" [Eight Trigrams: One Hundred and Twenty-Eight Palms!]_

_

* * *

_

**The Flying Dutchman**

_I… I cannot be the only one who loses here!_

_Urahara-sensei, please acknowledge this! Now is the time…_

Reaching deeper inside of himself deeper than he had ever done so in years, Abel mentally placed both of his hands upon the gates that barred the way to his inner reserves of strength, and braced himself for the wildest, most painful ride of his life.

**_To abide by, and protect my way of the warrior!_** He stated ardently to himself the condition Urahara-sensei had given him, and from inside himself, Abel Wade Wilson Locke welcomed the terrifying, monstrous torrent of power that poured out from his innermost being with wide, open arms.

Flowing through his skin like a tidal wave, Abel's entire body immediately turned red, veins bulging out on his temples and the sides of his head from the sheer amount of blood pumping through them. In an astonishing burst of power Abel's aura _exploded_, erupting and sending excess amounts of crimson energy flying in all directions with such force that even Latanica found himself being pushed backwards.

_Holy... what in the nine blazing hells is he doing? _The fallen captain thought to himself as he desperately tried to wrap his head around the situation. _His skin..._

_

* * *

_

...turned red? _Tricia realized with a start as she stared at the screaming, growing tornado of power that used to be Abel Locke down in the arena. Holy shit... what was the swordsman _doing_ down there?_

_"He's opened the Third Gate, the Life Gate..." Jake muttered to himself, his Sharingan eyes utterly focused upon the youngster below him. "He's going to make his move now..."_

_"No." Urahara suddenly said. "Not yet!"_

_"What?" Jake turned to look at his colleague in puzzlement, but all Urahara gave him in reply was that unfaltering smile of pride - pride in his favorite student, who was putting his life on the line in the arena down below to defend his way of life._

_And as Jake turned again to watch the spectacle progressing in the arena, he received the shock of his life as Abel crouched down, his fists clenched until his knuckles were white, and uttered his next words._

**_"Now, the Fourth Gate!"_**

**"Dai yon, Shomon... Kai!" _[Fourth Gate, Wound Gate... Open!]_**

_In an explosion of energy that Jake had never felt before in his life, Abel's muscles visibly bulged from underneath his plate armour, and his spiritual pressure multiplied in strength _fiftyfold. _Even the elite crusader was taken aback in surprise as the screaming swordsman's crimson aura suddenly flared and changed colour… and morphed into a brilliant, pure gold, as his dark locks, already rigidly pointing upwards, turned the very same shade of brilliant yellow as his aura, and his eyes changed from their piercing icy-blue into a brilliant emerald-green._

Incredible… _Jake couldn't believe his very own eyes, as he tightly shut them and deactivated his Sharingan before reactivating them again, just to absolutely sure that they were not playing tricks on him. _The legendary Super Saiyan state! Only the greatest of warriors and pirates are ever able to attain that state while opening the Eight Gates, and even those came only once every several generations!

What a boy… This isn't something that can be achieved through hard work alone!

Is… is he really a genius after all?

_

* * *

_

As the screaming White Knight in front of him let out a torrent of spiritual energy that Latanica had never felt before in all his years, the fallen captain found himself for the very first time being put to a pause, gaping in wonder at the golden, glowing being now standing before him, and wondering if his past, the night where he had lost his humanity, had actually come to catch up with him.

_No… no way… It couldn't be… _him?

"No… this can't be…" Latanica muttered to himself, disbelieving. "Who… _what are you?"_

_"Abel Wade Wilson Locke, White Knight of the Marauders."_ The golden being standing before him intoned in a voice as deep as the crashing ocean. _"When you get to hell, tell the Devil I sent you."_

Abel's screaming never stopped as the power poured forth, and when he felt his strength reach a crescendo, his crouched legs suddenly bent, coiling like a spring, a crouched tiger ready to pounce. Flinching, Latanica immediately began to drop into a guard… for all the good it did him.

There was a sudden explosion of movement from Abel's position, and the White Knight suddenly disappeared… _and then the entire fucking deck was ripped apart._

Latanica only had time to utter half a curse when a split-second later, a freight train collided right with his chin…

_

* * *

_

_… and the subsequent dust cloud kicked up by the sheer force of the collision completely obscured the arena, causing everybody who was watching to raise their hands to cover their eyes lest they be blinded by the dust._

He's fast…! _Jake thought to himself in wonderment, trying to keep at least one Sharingan eye on the action at all times – this wasn't something he could afford to miss!_

_Mouth agape in awe, Tricia lowered her arms the moment the dust cleared… and immediately blurted out, "What the _fuck! _Where did Stumpy go!"_

_Unbelievably, both Abel _and_ Stumpy had completely disappeared from the ground of the arena, and no matter where they looked, there was absolutely no sign of them…_

_Until Ethan activated his Byakugan to see through the dust and had the sense to look up._

_"_There!"_ The hunter pointed up, and everybody immediately turned their gaze skywards… and beheld the sight of Stumpy floating in mid-air, surrounded by the rocks that Abel had torn up from the ground with the sheer velocity of his charge._

_Amazingly, the giant tree's iron hard bark had actually been _splintered_ by the force of Abel's single blow – Jake had seen that Abel had delivered but a single kick to Stumpy's base to launch the giant monster into the air, but he hadn't known that that one blow would've packed such power! If it had been any of his teammates down in that arena, he would've shattered half the bones in their body with that single kick!_

_"Wait, hold on!" Tricia called out. "But I can't see Abel anywhere! Where is he?"_

_Ethan and Tricia continued scanning the arena for any sign of their disappeared teammate, but Urahara, watching the match with a practiced eye, simply continued observing calmly, and through it all, the proud smile never left his face._

_

* * *

_

As Latanica suddenly found himself being granted the brief sensation of flight, the fallen captain cursed this sudden reversal, and desperately cast his senses out to try and at least get a handle on the situation despite the agony of his shattered chin.

But what he sensed did not alleviate his stress any.

_My spirit guards can't keep up anymore…_ Latanica realized as he felt his spirit shield lagging behind severely, still struggling to reach the altitude that Latanica had been propelled towards in the span of a single second. Even now, he could even feel his regeneration kicking in to repair the broken bones that Abel had shattered, but even his healing factor was already beginning to slow down from mana exhaustion. _Damnit…_

But what Latanica could not sense was where Abel was – the warrior was just too damned fast!

_"Again with the high-speed regeneration, huh?" _The White Knight's voice suddenly called out from a location that Latanica just _could not determine._ _"Well then, how about _this!"

All of a sudden, Abel's furious visage appeared right in front of Latanica, and the fallen captain had but a split-second to register it before another hammer blow smashed right into his abdomen, practically liquefying his entire midsection.

The force of the strike sent him flying across the length of the ship, from bow to stern, and before Latanica could even register where he was, he felt another flicker of reiatsu… _and then another blow crashed straight into his back, _with enough force that had he been mortal, his spine would've been reduced to powder.

_What the…! _Latanica thought to himself in a panic. _He was just in front of me, since when did he get behind…!_

He didn't get a chance to think any further than that. He felt another flicker of reiatsu to his left, and before he knew it, an entire series of hammering blows were sending him flying about in the air, being punched about like a rag doll with ungodly speed.

_What…! _Latanica was so deep in shock that he could barely even form a coherent sentence with his thoughts. _My high-speed regeneration…_

The blows were coming so fast and so hard that Latanica felt that most of the spirit particles his body was composed of were either being liquefied, smashed to uselessness, or torn off. If this kept up, there wouldn't be enough left of him to even rebuild!

_…Can't keep up with this kind of damage!_

_You certainly are tough! _Abel thought to himself as he kicked himself off the mast of the ship, aiming himself straight at Latanica again, smacking him around with several punches before hurling himself at the mast again and kicking off once more to maintain his altitude. _Well then, let's see how you deal with _this!

Curling his hand into a fist, Abel painstakingly drew his arm back…

_

* * *

_

_And gathered his strength, ignoring the trembling, shaking muscles that screamed in protest with every movement he made._

His muscles have ripped! _Jake realized in shock as he recognized the pained movements that Abel had begun to make. The young swordsman had probably torn every single major muscle group in his body with the sheer intensity and speed with which he made his movements, and every movement he made was laced with agony few men had ever experienced._

_Ethan, however, was unable to spot that even with his Byakugan, this being the first time seeing the Eight Gates in action. Gazing upon the bright green blur racing around the arena, smacking around the giant Stumpy as though it were nothing but a rag doll, Ethan's Byakugan eyes were wide open in shock and wonder, and perhaps even with a little bit of awed terror._

That… that's… _Abel! Ethan thought to himself in quiet terror, his teeth gritted in disbelief, and oh, how he dearly wished at the moment that he had brought his brown pants._ When did he become so…!

_

* * *

_

Moving like the wind itself, and striking with the force of a hurricane, Abel Wade Wilson Locke brought his full fury down upon the fallen captain of the Flying Dutchman with all his strength. The White Knight was so caught up in his rush of power that he barely noticed the stream of blood running from his nose and the corner of his mouth, his body having been pushed so far past its limit that it could barely keep up with his demands.

Hurling himself at Latanica like a torpedo, Abel relished the look of utter fear and incomprehension on the captain's face, and mentally braced his body for what was to come next – this next move was going to hurt like a bitch!

_"This is the end!" _The White Knight screamed out, and once again plunged his awareness deep into himself, drawing out more power than he ever had in ten years.

**"Dai Go, Tomon... Kai!" _[Fifth Gate, Limit Gate... Open!]_**

Although it seemed physically impossible, the raging aura of energy surrounding the now-golden White Knight multiplied exponentially in strength _again_, as Abel's muscles underneath his jumpsuit bulged even _further_ in size, and Latanica found himself overcome by a terror unlike anything he had ever experienced, not even on the night where he had lost his humanity facing the golden being that had cursed him to his immortal, undead existence – the very same golden being that he now potentially faced.

_I can't guard myself… _The fallen captain thought desperately to himself, raising his arms weakly in a futile attempt to protect his battered body. _Is… is this even human movement?_

The White Knight streaked towards him like a human missile, unrelenting and unforgiving, and Latanica braced himself for impact… and then suddenly Abel disappeared from sight.

_Huh…?_ Latanica started in surprise. _Where in the-_

**_BAM!_**

Abruptly, a cannonball suddenly slammed into his midsection, and Latanica exhaled explosively as his internal ectoplasm burst out of his mouth with the sheer force with which Abel had struck.

_Blurk! _Was all the fallen captain was capable of grunting as he felt himself being catapulted to the deck far beneath him, and with his body battered and his senses reeling, he could only mentally brace himself for impact; an impact that he was sure would obliterate most of him.

But a split-second later, he felt something around his abdomen tighten and _snap_ taut, and the captain exhaled explosively again as the air was violently snapped out of him.

Gasping, he looked down, and flinched in surprise as he saw the sectioned blades of Abel's whip-blade wrapped tightly around his abdomen, and far above him, the White Knight himself was gripping Zabimaru's handle with a white-knuckled grip in his left hand, with the Yamato held in his right hand, brandished high above him and ready to strike.

But what Latanica found the scariest was not the sight of the White Knight poised in the air above him, with both his weapons raised and ready to descend upon his pinned opponent.

No, what simply unnerved the captain was the fact that behind the White Knight, _his own spirit shield was lagging behind_, moving as sluggishly as a snail, and still struggling to catch up with him.

_My spirit shield can't even catch up with me… _The captain thought to himself as he desperately tried to search for any way out of this. _And not even my healing factor can keep up with the kind of damage he's dealing!_

_By the Gods… What in the world _is _he?_

_

* * *

_

_Ura Renge, _the Reverse Lotus! _Urahara thought to proudly to himself as he watched his student, his most beloved student, his greatest creation, carry out the fruits of several months of arduous, deadly training that few would have ever made it through._ Simply put, it is a combination of high-speed hand-to-hand combat moves where the opponent cannot even touch the user! The answer to defeating Stumpy lies in the high-speed combo!

There is no way it'll be able to withstand the next blow!

_

* * *

_

_This… is going to be the last move! _Abel thought to himself with all the conviction of a fight already won, and tightening his already white-knuckled grip on Zabimaru's handle even further, he gave his sword the mightiest pull he had ever given in his life, pulling Latanica towards him… and the Yamato's waiting blade.

The White Knight took in the incredibly gratifying sight of Latanica's eyes widen and light up in sheer terror and trepidation, and flinging his right hand forward with all the might he could muster, Abel stabbed forward with the Yamato, and plunged it right through Latanica's chest as he slammed his foot simultaneously into the captain's midsection, with a cry that shook the heavens themselves.

A cry that screamed-

**_"URA RENGEEEEEE!"_**

**BAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!**

_

* * *

_

Miles away, from his small fishing boat, Ralph watched as a giant impact completely obliterated what was left of the Flying Dutchman's deck, sending dust and debris flying in all directions.

_I knew it. I knew the boy had it in him. _The old man thought to himself, and smirking triumphantly, the retired sailor sat down, and gunned the engine of his boat, sending it swiftly yet silently streaking towards the floating hulk in the distance.

It was time for him to put to use that bullet he had been saving.

_

* * *

_

It was like a meteor had been sent crashing down upon the ship's deck. Latanica's impact upon the wooden floor of the deck had sent wooden splinters, planks, and dust flying everywhere, obscuring the battle site for yards around.

Screaming in pain as his body's demands finally caught up with him, Abel's sword arm and leg spasmed uncontrollably, sending his flight out of control and leaving him to tumble unceremoniously onto the ruined deck below. Gasping and groaning in pain as even the slightest movement set off spikes of pain that jolted his awareness like an electric shock, Abel tumbled and rolled for several moments before he ground to a stop, laying helplessly upon the _Flying Dutchman_'s ruined deck, panting heavily in exhaustion.

_Well…_ The completely spent White Knight thought to absently to himself. _I finally got him! There was no way he could have guarded against that!_

Breathing heavily and trying to get his wind back, Abel simply laid his head back, and laughed, relishing in the feeling of being _alive_.

He had used the Eight Gates against Latanica, and had _lived!_

Boy, was he going to have a hell of a story for the rest of the Marauders when he got back to headquarters – especially _her_. Boy, was she gonna love this tale.

_I'm coming, baby. _Grinning and still laughing to himself despite the spikes of pain lodged in his ribs that shifted with every chuckle he let out, Abel blindly reached out with his hands, and found the handles of his faithful swords lying nearby. _I'm coming back, Juliana._

Stumbling blindly, he felt Zabimaru's handle in his left hand, and reverted the whip-blade back into its Dragon Sword state, slowly and gingerly returning it to its sheathe on his back, and he was about to return the Yamato to its own scabbard on his waist, when he heard soft, exhausted panting in the background.

Exhausted panting that was not his own.

_Oh, Jesus Christ in a handbasket, you've gotta be fucking kidding me. _Abel thought to himself as he resisted the urge to swear an entire string of oaths. Painfully rolling himself around onto his side, still maintaining his grip on the Yamato's handle, he turned himself to look at where he had hurled Latanica into the deck with his final blow, and was greeted with a sight that he had been hoping dearly not to see.

The fallen captain was still twitching, his red, demonic eyes still wide open, and utterly focused on Abel – the one who had dared injure him so.

Latanica's body had been utterly devastated by the blow – from the horizontal position where he was lying, the entire _lower half_ of his body had been reduced to nothing but mush; useless, destroyed ectoplasm that he could no longer focus and shape. And yet, despite the fact that the entire back half of his body was missing, Latanica's hatred still held fast – still persisted in the face of imminent oblivion, and if he was going down, he was going to take his opponent down kicking and screaming into hell with him.

_"Die!" _Latanica single-mindedly ground out with what was left of his larynx, his voice hoarse with pain and exhaustion, and raising a deformed, ravaged hand left with only three fingers in Abel's direction, the weakened captain still managed to wrap his hatred and raw will around what spirit matter he still possessed control over… and sent yet another wave from what was left of his spirit shield flowing towards the crippled White Knight.

Cursing, Abel struggled to force himself to his feet, and yelled out in pain as this time, his muscles absolutely refused to carry his weight any longer, rebelling against his will and collapsing him to his knees.

_No way!_ The White Knight thought to himself in disbelief, as he doggedly tried to force himself upright again. _I used the Reverse Lotus on him, and he's still able to attack?_

Groaning in pain as his muscles protested even more violently than before, it was all Abel could do to stand upright before the approaching assault, as Latanica's spirit shield formed a giant hand that reached out for him with its cold, black, grasping fingers – the fingers of Death itself.

But, as ever, defiant in the face of Death, Abel mustered all his strength for the one final act he needed, and though his sword had never felt heavier in his hand, he still wrenched the Yamato upright in front of him, and rotated it, facing its flat edge towards Latanica.

There was still strength left for one last counterattack, and if this failed, there would be no saving him this time.

_"Chire… Senbonzakura!" [Scatter, One Thousand Cherry Blossoms!]_

Just as the hand was mere feet away from him, the Yamato's steel-edged blade suddenly glowed with bright energy, and its blade _dispersed_, disintegrating into thousands of light, pink petals – petals of the sakura, the Cherry Blossom.

The first of the petals brushed themselves against the summoned hand of Latanica, and it dispersed the spirit particles like waves breaking upon the rocks of the shore… then the hand reformed itself like silly putty and wrapped itself around Senbonzakura's still-dispersing blade.

Abel had barely any time to even realize what was going on before Senbonzakura stopped dispersing itself, and its blade instantaneously reformed as Latanica's spirit shield wrapped itself around it… and then proceeded to completely envelope the hand that was grasping onto its handle as well.

_Impossible!_ The White Knight screamed out in his head as he involuntarily took a fearful step back – in response, his muscles protested again and he ended up falling flat on his ass. _Ugh, damnit! I… I can't lose here! I must defend my way of the warrior…!_

_Shit… Juliana!_

In a panic, Abel scrambled backwards, desperate to at least open up some distance between him and Latanica's hand. No, this couldn't be how it would end!

Latanica's hand reached towards him, its black spiritual matter wrapping its cold, deathly fingers around him, and cursing himself for his weakness, Abel braced himself for the cold embrace of death… when all of a sudden a gunshot rang out, and the giant appendage disintegrated before him…

And revealed Ralph standing on the upper deck, his smoking pistol levelled at the prone, ravaged Latanica who lay facing away from him, a fist-sized hole blown through the side of his head.

The fallen captain's eyes were wide in disbelief, his half-destroyed hand still raised in Abel's direction, as though he could not quite comprehend what had just happened.

"What… I…" Latanica whispered in a tiny, lost voice – the voice of a child, and one that Abel had never expected to hear from the likes of him. "I… is this… the end…?"

"Yes it is, Latanica." Abel heard Ralph's whispering reply. "Forty years, I've been waiting for this. Forty years, I've been saving this bullet for you… and now, you've finally earned it. Congratulations, Latanica; you're finally free."

"I… I can die…?" The hope in the captain's voice was so innocent, so free of malice, that Abel just couldn't bear to raise Senbonzakura's blade any further, and he let go of the katana, leaving his sword to clatter to the ruined deck, where it reverted back to its sealed Yamato form.

No – he would not raise his sword against someone whose death was meant to be delivered at the hands of someone far more appropriate.

"Yes, Latanica." The old wanderer murmured, and he let go of his pistol, the flintlock firearm clattering to the deck with its barrel still smoking. "Let go of your hatred. Go now – after ferrying all those lost souls to the afterlife, I'd think you'd have earned some rest there yourself by now."

There was sigh, a satisfied, relieved sigh that was felt more than heard, and almost immediately Abel felt the oppressive spiritual presence that hung over the entire ship begin to disperse – Latanica's body began to disintegrate and evaporate before his eyes, and the White Knight almost immediately felt as though a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders, as all the hatred, the darkness, the resentment that had haunted this ship ever since its captain had fallen from grace, lifted like a fog, and dispersed into nothingness like leaves in the wind.

Even Ralph had felt it apparently – the old wanderer had a bright, satisfied twinkle in his eyes, and as he stepped down the stairs from the upper deck to give the injured White Knight a hand up, the sun began to rise from behind the horizon, bathing them in the warm, rejuvenating rays of the dawn.

"I didn't expect _you_ of all people to come to my help!" Abel exclaimed gratefully as he gingerly held himself back on his feet when Ralph had pulled him up, and the old wanderer chuckled, clapping the White Knight lightly on the back and nearly sending Abel tumbling forward.

"What, you didn't think I was about to give you the pleasure of killing Latanica yourself? No, this one was mine and mine alone to take. I have to admit, though – I couldn't have done it without your help. Thanks kid; I owe you one." Ralph said with a grateful smile, and extended a hand towards the White Knight.

"Think nothing of it." Abel replied, gingerly taking the wanderer's hand and shaking it lightly. "It's what us Marauders do."

"Well, I can't have you going off without some form of repayment – you helped me get to Latanica after the forty years I've been waiting, and I won't let that kind of good deed go unrewarded." The old adventurer smiled, and extended a hand that held a clear, glass jar in it.

Abel heard the retired adventurer murmur some indecipherable incantation under his breath, and as Ralph chanted softly, the dark fog that was beginning to disperse above the ship suddenly halted, and began to spiral downward, funnelling into the jar that Ralph held in his hand and coalescing into a black, gel-like substance.

Just as the very last of the fog had funnelled itself into the glass jar, Ralph stopped his chanting, and flicked his wrist, snapping the jar closed and tossing it towards Abel. Despite his pained fatigue, the White Knight still managed to catch the jar out of the air, and he gazed down upon it in his hand, feeling the power literally thrumming from the black substance the jar held.

"That right there is what we call Black Essence." Ralph explained as he turned to face to rising sun. " But then again, this is what you came here for in the first place, isn't it?"

"It contains all the energy and power of the hatred and anger that had kept Latanica bound to this ship. Harnessed and controlled properly, it makes an incredible source of energy – anger, after all, despite being a negative emotion, is a subset of passion, and we all know how much of a motivational force that can be. But be careful, Knight… Set it loose and wild, it is also more than capable of destroying far more than it had initially been purposed for." The wanderer warned him, and Abel simply smirked in response, before placing the jar on the belt of his jumpsuit, and quickly securing it.

"Well," The White Knight remarked, "I guess that's something for Hiroshi and James to worry about. This isn't for me, it's meant to help get… an old friend of mine back."

Ralph simply gave him an enigmatic smile, and placed an encouraging hand on the White Knight's shoulder. "Well then, boy, I wish you all the best in that endeavour. May the Gods be with you."

Nodding his thanks, Abel turned to the deck, and injected himself with an Elixir hypo to restore some of his strength before taking a running leap off the _Flying Dutchman_'s deck, and dove into the sea, swimming towards the small rowing boat he had taken here.

_I'm coming back, baby._ The White Knight thought to himself as he pulled himself back up onto the boat, absently patting the jar of Black Essence on his belt that he had nearly spent his life obtaining – but no matter what the cost, no matter what they had to sacrifice, in the end, it would still all be worth it.

_I'm coming, Juliana. And together, we're going to get Tricia back._

_

* * *

_

_A/N: And so Abel's adventure comes to a close! Stay tuned for a continuation of James' struggle with Zabuza, and Logan's search for Zeno in Omega Sector as he seeks once more to uncover the mysteries of his past, in _The Marauders, Episode IV: WEAPON X._  
_


End file.
